


How The Light Gets In

by codychangretta



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Female Reader, Love Triangles, Low Honor Arthur Morgan, Period Typical Attitudes, Slow Burn, i fucking love this game so much FUCK, insecure reader, this was inspired by a post on tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2020-08-20 15:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20229883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codychangretta/pseuds/codychangretta
Summary: After your home is ransacked by a group of strange men, you and your cousin are taken in by a group of outlaws. And that’s when the trouble really starts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know the dialogue doesn’t perfectly match the game please don’t get mad. I also highly recommend installing the Interactive Fics chrome extension if you haven’t already so you can use it to change ‘[Name]’ to your actual name! Shout out and god bless to the maker(s) of that extension!

_There’s a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in._

-Leonard Cohen

* * *

You couldn’t remember the last time you had so wanted to die. In the darkness of the cellar, you could barely make out Sadie’s form, but you could hear her ragged and furious breaths, and could feel how badly she was trembling. You tightened your grip on her nightgown, both to keep yourself grounded and to try and calm her down.**  
**

You felt her shift, and instinctively moved closer to her. “They have to sleep sometime.” She muttered, and you weren’t entirely sure if she was talking to you or herself. “And once they do, we’re gonna slit their fucking throats.”

A shiver went down your spine. You had never seen Sadie this vicious before. But then, what should you expect, given how brutally Jake was killed by men he wanted to help.

It had all happened so fast. One second you’re welcoming the gaggle of men into the house and trying to work out who would rest where, the next your ears were ringing from the sound of a gunshot and Jake was on the ground, blood slowly pooling around him. You had no idea you could scream so hard for so long.

Your hand went to your locket, fingers wrapping tight around the cold metal as you tried to calm your racing heart, and steady your breathing. “Sadie I-”

“Shh!”

You immediately shut your mouth and moved closer to Sadie, feeling her tense up. “They’ve gone quiet.”

She was right. The sounds of the men partying had suddenly stopped, leaving everything eerily silent. You looked up, and were just able to make out Sadie’s face. It was hard, mouth set in a half snarl and she had a wild, angry look in her eyes, like when you were both children and she was about to fight some of the neighbourhood kids for picking on you.

Sadie took a step forward, but then immediately pulled down and covered you with her body as best as she could when gunshots rang out. You shrieked and instinctively curled into the fetal position, momentarily forgetting that you were in the cellar, and unlikely to be hurt.

The sounds were faint from the cellar, and were made even fainter by the blood pounding in your ears. You remained silent and still, and watched Sadie to see what you should do.

Then, as quickly as it started, the gunfire stopped.

You finally exhaled, shakily, and kept your gaze on Sadie. “Do-do you think they’re gone?”

Sadie raised her head slightly, squinting at the hatch that lead into the cellar. Sadie cautiously approached it, going up the small set of stairs, and tried to open it, but it barely budged. “Fuck.” Sadie growled. She paused, then gestured for you to come over, never taking her eyes off the hatch.

You quickly got to your feet and raced to Sadie, staying behind her. “What is it?” You didn’t dare raise your voice above a whisper.

“Listen.”

You did as she asked, and picked up voices. They were clearly men’s voices, but it sounded like only two of them, and you didn’t recognize them. The voices of the men that had forced you and Sadie into the cellar were familiar to you. Their hoots and hollers haunted you, even in your sleep.

You clung onto Sadie’s nightgown again, your knuckles going white.

The two of you listened with bated breath as the strangers spoke and walked. You could barely hear them through the floorboards, and you flinched when the footsteps moved almost directly above you.

“What are we gonna do?” You asked, so terrified that you could barely hear yourself.

“We-We’re gonna-” Sadie gulped, and for the first time you saw uncertainty in her eyes. “I don’t know.” Hearing the defeat in her voice and feeling her deflate made you move closer to her. She let out a shaky breath before turning to face you and firmly hold your shoulders. “The second we get the chance, we’re runnin’. We’ll face whoever is out there and we are gonna get the hell off this damn mountain.” She swallowed again. “And, [Name], listen, if it comes down to it, you gotta run without me.”

Your eyes widened and you immediately grabbed Sadie’s arms. “No.” You said, somehow able to make your voice firm. “I’m not leaving without you.”

“[Name]!” Sadie squeezed your shoulders and made her voice more forceful. “I’m not debatin’ this with you. If you have to choose between savin’ me and savin’ yourself, I want you to choose yourself. I want you to get Gladys and get someplace safe. Do you understand me?”

It was clear that Sadie really wasn’t going to budge from this position, but you still hesitated. “Sadie-”

“Do you understand me?”

There was a tense pause, and you could feel Sadie was trembling.

Blinking back tears, you nodded. “I-I understand.”

“Good.” Sadie abruptly pulled you into a hug, squeezing you tight. “I love you [Name].”

You trembled and sniffled as you hugged Sadie back, burying your face into her shoulder. “I love you too Sadie.”

The two of you stayed that way a few moments longer, until you heard footsteps over your heads again.

Sadie quickly let you go and turned around, watching the floorboards.

There was another man’s voice, although if it was one of the earlier men you couldn’t tell. There was a pause, then you heard the horrible sound of something scraping against wood, like something heavy being pushed.

“Don’t forget, run if you have to.”

You could only nod, as the cellar hatch was suddenly flung open.

During the next few seconds, time seemed to slow to an unbearable crawl. You watched as Sadie launched herself at the unknown man, shrieking like a woman deranged. You quickly followed her out of the cellar, finally seeing the rest of the cabin for the first time in who knew how long.

It was an absolute wreck, with broken glass, splintered wood, and blood, both old and new, everywhere. Jake’s blood had stained the wood where he fell, but you couldn’t see him, and you felt a new wave of grief wash over you.

“Well would you look at that! Two of ya!”

You looked back to see Sadie grab a large knife off the dinner table and wave it in front of her, keeping the man at bay.

“[NAME]! RUN!”

Without thinking and fueled by adrenaline, you made a dash for the open door.

Just as you reached it, a bulky figure in black appeared, startling you and making you fall backwards.

“Micah! What the hell are you doing?!”

You quickly got back to your feet and looked around frantically for a weapon of some sort.

“Look at what I found Dutch!” The first man, Micah?, said with a cackle. “A couple of O’Driscolls!”

Unable to find anything, you went back to Sadie’s side and watched as another man in a large blue jacket entered the house behind the man in black.

“They ain’t O’Driscolls Micah!”

Sadie shoved you behind her and continued to brandish the knife, gnashing her teeth, a wild animal cornered.

Micah laughed, shoving the table over, causing the lit lamp to break and start a fire. You shrieked and backed away, Sadie remaining in front of you.

“You damn fool Micah!” The man in black, Dutch?, approached you both, holding out his hands as if he was trying to calm a wild horse. “Now ladies, please, calm down. We ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He took another cautious step towards you both. “Come with us, you’ll both be safe.”

You and Sadie looked at each other. You knew she didn’t trust these men, but with the spreading fire inside and the wild snow storm outside, you both knew that your choices were limited.

Sadie said nothing, but lowered the knife and cautiously approached Dutch. You stayed close behind her as he ushered you both out of the burning house.

Just as you stepped outside, you felt something heavy but soft fall on your shoulders. You looked up, and saw the man in the blue coat had draped a blanket over you, to shield you from the cold. It was a simple act, the kind any decent person would do given the opportunity, but it still made you smile.

“We’re bad men.” Dutch said, leading you both to tacked up horses. “But we ain’t them.”

As the man in blue lead you forward, you recognized the black and brown Dutch Warmblood that was hitched with the others.

“Gladys!”

Without thinking you ran to her, throwing your arms around her neck, relishing the heat that radiated off of her. “You doing ok girl?” You pulled away slightly, looking into Gladys’s big dark eyes.You smiled as she gently nuzzled you. “I know, I know. I’m sorry for being gone girl, but I’m back now. I’m back.”

“She yours?”

You looked up and saw the man in blue was beside you, holding your blanket. You hadn’t even noticed that it had fallen off. “Yeah.”

“Mind if I ride her?”

For a moment, you hesitated, clinging onto Gladys protectively. But as your feet got colder and your arms more numb, you knew that there would be no way you would be able to ride her, at least not effectively.

“Go ahead.”

The man nodded, holding out a hand.

Confused, you took it, and you were surprised as he helped you onto Gladys before he got on himself. “Be nice to him Gladys.” You said, patting Gladys’s flank, as you could tell she was more than a little apprehensive about this.

As the horses began to move, you turned and watched as the house Jake and Sadie had built, the house that had been your home these past five months, slowly burned and fell, half obscured by the snow.

“You got a name miss?”

You turned your head, and saw that Dutch was looking at Sadie over his shoulder.

“Adler.” Sadie’s voice was hoarse, and you could see the grief and sadness you were feeling in her eyes as she watched her life crumble.

“Adler?”

“Sadie. Missus.” She didn’t look away. “I-he was my husband.”

“I’m very sorry Mrs Adler.” Dutch said, and he sounded sincere.

“What about you?”

You looked up at the man in blue. “I-I’m [Name].”

He nodded in Sadie’s direction. “You two family or something?”

“Cousins.” You clarified. As Gladys trudged through the snow to higher ground, you looked back over your shoulder one last time at the burning house.

You wrapped your arms tight around the man, pressing yourself against his back for warmth. “And she’s all I got now.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know it's only been a day and im aleady updating but i had the day off so i just kicked back and wrote more lmao but pls dont expect these kinds of updates from me i am incredibly slow djfngkdfngkdfn anyways enjoy and as always please leave comments and kudos!

The ride back to Colter where the Van Der Linde Gang had set up camp was long and arduous and cold, but you were so glad to be in open air and out of that small, dark cellar that you couldn’t bring yourself to mind that much.

Arthur Morgan, the man in the blue coat, didn’t tell you much beyond who he, Dutch Van Der Linde, and Micah Bell were and that the men who had killed Jake were part of a larger gang lead by a man called Colm O’Driscoll, who was locked in a feud with Mr Van Der Linde that had been going on for over a decade now.

None of this was pleasant of course, but it was enough to somewhat distract you from the cold, and knowing that there was shelter with other people, including other women, made you feel a little better.

At random intervals you would pat Gladys’s flank, to soothe the two of you. You had missed her during your captivity in the cellar, and you told yourself that the second you reached civilization you would buy her as many sugar cubes as she could eat. You caught Mr Morgan glancing down at the hand that patted Gladys a couple times, but his face was unreadable.

Resting your cheek against Mr Morgan’s back, you watched the dappled mare that trudged beside Gladys, staying in perfect formation with the other horses despite not having a rider. Whoever rode her clearly trained her well.

“Dutch is back!”

At the sound of the new voice you looked up, trying to peek out from behind Mr Morgan to see who had spoken, but even if you could see beyond him it was so dark and the snow was so thick you doubted you would be able to see anything.

As the silhouettes of the abandoned buildings that made up Colter came into view, you saw some figures come out of the dark. A few were carrying torches, helping you to see them clearer.

“Miss Grimshaw! Could you please help Mrs Adler and [Name] here?” Mr Van Der Linde called out as his dismounted his horse, helping Sadie off once he was standing.

You watched as Mr Morgan got off Gladys, and to your immense surprise, he extended a hand to you.

“Thank you.” You took Mr Morgan’s hand and carefully stepped down into the cold snow, wincing slightly from the chill as you did so. You gave Gladys a few more pats before hurrying to Sadie’s side.

“Come with me ladies, you’ll be safe with us.” A tall, older woman ushered you and Sadie towards one of the large buildings. “And we’ve made up a room for you Mr Morgan! Mr Bell, you’re with some of the others in the shack!”

“What?! How come Arthur gets a room while I’m saddled with Bill Williamson and a bunch of darkies?!”

Your eyebrows shot straight up at Mr Bell’s comment, but before you could react further, you and Sadie were herded inside, and lead to a crackling fire side.

The two of you sat close to the fire, and you wrapped as much of the blanket covering you around Sadie as you could. You looked up at the older woman and the other women that surrounded her and did your best to smile warmly. “Thank you.” You said, somewhat breathless from the sudden change in temperature. “You’re all very kind.”

“Think nothing of it.” The woman draped another, thicker blanket over you and Sadie. “I’m Susan Grimshaw.”

“[Name] [Last Name].” You smiled and rubbed your hands together, blowing on them for warmth. You glanced back at Sadie, and saw a vast emptiness in her eyes that chilled you worse than the cold.

The other women introduced themselves, and you gave each a smile and told them how happy you were to meet them, and that you were “so so grateful” to have found shelter with them. You looked over at the back of the building, where a small furnace was burning, and a small boy was sleeping beside it. “Who’s that?”

“My son, Jack.” Miss Roberts said. “He’s a good boy, not much trouble.”

“How has he been holding up in all this?”

“Rather well, considering.”

You nodded, relieved. The idea of a small child travelling with a gang of outlaws deeply concerned you, but you said nothing. It wasn’t your place, and you had just met these people. You would have to act very wisely and cautiously as the question of trust hung over all of your heads.

“I think Jack has the right idea.” Miss Grimshaw said. “We should all get some rest now, get some strength for the morning.”

The rest of the women nodded in agreement and went to retrieve bedrolls to lay out. While Miss Roberts stayed close to Jack, the other women huddled close to the fire.

You gently laid down, wrapping the blanket Mr Morgan had give you tight. Your head was beside Sadie’s thigh as she remained sitting, gazing into the fire. “Sadie?” You said softly, looking up at her. “You gonna sleep?”

She nodded. “In-in a bit.”

You contemplated urging her to sleep now, but you decided to leave it. “Goodnight Sadie.”

You rolled over onto your side, to give Sadie some privacy for whatever it was she was doing. As you pulled the blanket around you tighter, you reached for your locket, and opened it.

Just like always, your mother’s picture smiled back at you, eyes shining and dimpled cheeks fit to burst from happiness. With the house gone, this was now the last thing you had of her, the only thing that would keep you connected to her. You brought it to your lips and gently kissed the weathered photo. “Goodnight momma.”

* * *

When you woke, it took you a few moments to remember where you were. You looked around, and saw Sadie huddled beside the fireplace, with only one blanket wrapped around her, face set in a frown. Seeing her like that, everything came rushing back.

The cellar.

The men.

The house.

Jake.

And now, the Van Der Linde Gang.

You sidled up to Sadie, pulling your two blankets around you, and put a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her to wake her up. “Sadie?”

She grumbled and furrowed her brow, stirring slightly. “What…”

You sat up on your knees, looking around to see the other women and Jack waking up as well. “It’s morning.”

Sadie slowly opened her eyes, looking around blearily. “Where-” She stopped herself suddenly, clearly remembering the events of the night before. Her face hardened as she turned back to you. “You alright?”

You nodded. “Yeah, but what about you?” You moved closer to Sadie, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You sleep alright?”

“Yeah. Fine.” Sadie rose to her feet and you quickly followed. “You sure you ok?”

“I’m sure Sadie, really.”

She seemed skeptical, but she didn’t say anything more.

As the other women woke, you all huddled around the fire, staying close to share body heat. You looked across from you were sitting and saw Jack sitting on his mother’s lap, cuddling close to her.

Your heart melted at the sight, and it made you remove one of the blankets around you and hand it to Miss Roberts. “Here.”

Miss Roberts’s eyes widened, but she smiled and took the blanket. “Thank you.” She looked down at Jack. “This is [Name] and Mrs Adler Jack, now say thank you.”

“Thank you.” He smiled shyly and snuggled under the blanket some more.

You returned his smile warmly. “You’re welcome Jack.”

The door opened, bringing in a sudden burst of cold and you all looked up to see that three men had entered.

One was an older man, and the hair that you could see peeking out from under his hat was as silver as the chain of your locket, another was a portly middle aged man, and the third was the tallest and darkest of them all, his head almost completely covered save for his face, and with very noticeable bandages around one of his hands. All three were carrying bowls of something hot and approached you all.

“Hope you’re all hungry.” The eldest man said, as he and the other two men all passed out bowls.

“That we are Mr Matthews.” Miss Grimshaw said with a smile. “Thank you.”

The tall man gave you a bowl, and you saw that the bandages around his hand were dark, and clearly needed to be changed.

“Goodness! What happened here?” You gently took the bowl out of his hands and set it aside so you could examine the bandages more closely.

“I um, I just burned it.” The man mumbled back.

“These bandages need to be changed.” You gently ran your fingers over the top of his hand before looking up at Miss Grimshaw. “Do we have any more bandages?”

Miss Grimshaw had raised a brow, but she stood up and went to a table in a far corner and quickly returned with a fresh roll of bandages, a tin, and scissors and handed them to you. “Here you go.”

“Thank you Miss Grimshaw.” You took them from her and smiled up at the man. “You can sit you know.”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, but in the end he sat on your left, away from Sadie and the other women.

“I’m [Name].” You said as you carefully removed the bandages.

“Charles Smith.”

“It’s nice to meet you Mr Smith.” You looked over at the other two men and smiled at them. “And thank you all for the food.”

“It’s alright miss, you should really be thanking Pearson over here.” The old man gestured to the portly man. “He’s the camp cook.”

“In that case, thank you Mr Pearson. It can’t have been easy, cooking in this cold.” You looked down at the bowl, and saw that it was a rather plain looking soup, but at this point any food was better than nothing. “It looks very nice.”

Mr Pearson’s face went red and he shrugged, mumbling something you couldn’t hear before quickly leaving.

You stared after him, startled and a little worried. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No not at all, that’s just Pearson.” The other man said reassuringly. “And I’m Hosea, Hosea Matthews.” He approached the semi-circle that had formed around the fire and sat beside Miss Grimshaw. “Dutch told me what happened last night. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you Mr Matthews, that’s very kind of you to say.” You looked back at Mr Smith’s hand and were only just able to hold back a wince when you saw the burn blisters on his hand. “What happened?”

“Got too close to the fire.” Mr Smith shifted around slightly and out of the corner of your eye you saw him wince.

“Sorry.” You said quickly. “I’ll be more careful.” You slowed your movements, taking great care to not make physical contact with the blisters as you unwound the last of the bandage.

“You don’t have to do this.”

You looked up at Mr Smith in surprise. “I want to.” You assured him. “I like to be useful.” With the last of the worn bandages undone, you discarded them off to the side and picked up the tin, seeing that it contained an ointment for burns. “This will probably sting a little Mr Smith, I’ll be as gentle as I can.” You opened the tin and saw that it had been used somewhat already, but there was still plenty left to scoop into your fingers and gently apply to the hand. “Did you sleep well?”

Mr Smith furrowed his brow and frowned, and for a few dreadful seconds you panicked internally, wondering if you had said the wrong thing. “About as well as you could expect.”

You nodded, relieved at the response. “It is awfully cold out, but we’ve got shelter so I can’t really complain.” You gently spread the ointment over the blisters, being as careful as you could to not apply too much pressure and cause Mr Smith discomfort. “It doesn’t usually get this bad.”

“How long have you two been up here?”

You looked over at Mr Matthews, pausing in your application of the ointment. “Sadie and Jake were up here for a couple years, I only joined them about three-no, four months ago now.” You turned back to Mr Smith, secretly hoping no one would ask why you would choose to live with your cousin and her husband in what was essentially the middle of nowhere.

It seemed Mr Matthews could tell that that was a touchy subject for you, as he started to talk to the other women, but mostly Miss Grimshaw.

When you were satisfied with the amount of ointment on Mr Smith’s hand, you unspooled a new length of bandages from the roll and slowly wrapped it around Mr Smith’s hand, taking care to focus on the affected area and leave enough space between the fingers for him to move them easily.

“You-you’re good at this.”

You smiled. “I had to do this sort of thing all the time for Sadie when we were kids, it’s the sort of thing that’s hard to forget.” You glanced over at Sadie, frowning slightly when you saw that she was just staring into the fire while eating the soup. Her movements were stiff and lifeless, almost like she was a marionette being controlled by an indifferent puppeteer.

After the third layer of bandages, you gently held up Mr Smith’s hand, softly running the tips of your fingers along the sides, inspecting your work, making sure that it was secure but not so tight as to cause discomfort. “Does that feel alright Mr Smith?” You looked up at him, still gently holding his hand.

He nodded. “It feels fine.”

Nodding, you took the scissors and carefully cut the bandage, leaving enough of the material for you to be able to secure it so that your work wouldn’t come undone and be an inconvenience. “There you go.” You put Mr Smith’s hand on his knee before letting go and picking up the bowl of soup, that was thankfully still hot. “If you need it changed again, don’t be afraid to ask me.”

Mr Smith said nothing, just nodded before abruptly standing up, making you jump back slightly. He nodded at Mr Matthews before quickly leaving.

You stared at the door, wondering how you managed to send two men running so soon after meeting them. “Did I do something that time?”

“No, Charles is the quiet type, that’s all.” Mr Matthews replied, smiling kindly.

You weren’t sure if he was telling the truth or just trying to spare your feelings, so you just nodded and ate your soup.

“Has anyone seen John?”

You looked over at Miss Roberts, brow furrowed. “Who’s John?”

Miss Roberts bit her lip and looked down at Jack. “Jack’s father. We didn’t find him last night.”

“I’m sure he’s fine Abigail.” Mr Matthews assured her, patting her knee kindly. “Our John knows how to survive.”

Looking down at Jack, who was already almost finished with his soup, you felt your heart ache for the little boy. Despite Mr Matthews’s optimism, you were more skeptical. You had been on the mountain long enough to know how hard it could be out there in the cold, and with a storm like this, you could only imagine how much harder it would’ve been. You were almost positive that even Sadie, strong survivalist that she was, wouldn’t dare try her luck in these conditions.

“Can’t you send someone out to find him? Like Arthur?” Miss Roberts urged Mr Matthews.

“If he isn’t back by tomorrow I’ll do just that.” Mr Matthews promised. He rose from his seat, rubbing his gloved hands together. “Well, I better get back to it, see what Dutch has to say about all this.” He nodded at you and Sadie. “You two are welcome to stay with us as long as you need to.”

“Thank you Mr Matthews.”

He smiled and tipped his hat at you all before leaving, quickly closing the door behind him.

You looked over at Miss Roberts, who still looked worried. “I’m sure you’ll get your man back.” You said gently, reaching over to pat her knee.

Miss Roberts smiled weakly. “Well he-he ain’t  _ really _ my man. But thank you. It’ll be nice for the boy to have his father around.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” You looked back down at Jack as you continued to eat your soup.

He seemed like a nice little boy, and he deserved to have his father around.

You knew very well the pain that came from having an absentee father. It wasn’t one you would wish on anybody.

“We should get you two into some new clothes.” Miss Grimshaw looked you and Sadie over before turning to the other women. “Miss Jones, Miss Gaskill, do you two have anything Mrs Adler and Miss [Last Name] could wear?”

“We’ll have a look.” Miss Jones replied, setting down her bowl.

You almost wanted to stop them, but your sense won out against your need to be polite. It had been days since you had worn something other than the nightgown you had on, and you imagined that some fresh clothes would do you and Sadie a world of good, and hopefully make you feel warmer.

“You’ve all been very kind.” You said, as the need to be polite was very much still there. “I don’t know how to thank you all.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Miss Roberts said good naturedly.

“I bet Charles is thinking of a way to thank you for redoing those bandages all nice and gentle like.” Miss Jones added in a tone that was surprisingly rather teasing.

“Oh! He doesn’t have to do that!” You said, nearly choking on the last of your soup in your hurry to speak. “I-You don’t think he thinks that I’m expecting something in return do you?”

“Well if he ain’t I’m sure he’ll think of somethin’ regardless.” Miss Jones said, with a smile you couldn’t decipher. “He is a man after all.”

You frowned and furrowed your brow. “What’s that got to do with it?”

Miss Jones stopped in her search for clothes and looked at you quizzically. “You serious?”

“Just find those clothes Miss Jones!” Miss Grimshaw scolded. “You can talk about the ways of men once we’re off this Godforsaken mountain.”

Miss Jones shrugged and did as she was told, although she still had that look on her face.

“Any of those men give you trouble, you tell me.”

You jumped slightly, not expecting Sadie to say anything. “I don’t think I’ll-”

“Just say you’ll do it.”

You paused, surprised at the seriousness in Sadie’s voice. “I-Ok. I promise Sadie.”

She nodded. “Good.”

You stared at Sadie a little longer, before finally deciding to just leave it be. She’s always been protective, and while you doubted any of the men would look at you, you knew better than to argue with her on this sort of thing.

“Alright, let’s see if these’ll fit ya.” Miss Jones held out a dress. “Come on [Name], just pretend you’re trying on clothes in Paris!”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that came forth. “Very well mademoiselle.” You said as you got up and approached Miss Jones. “Sadie always said I was good at using my imagination.”

Out of the corner of your eye, to your delight, you saw Sadie crack something like a small smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fact that these chapters arent a month apart is throwing me dfngdokfnkd

In the end it turned out that Miss Grimshaw had guessed rather well, as Sadie had a similar body type to Miss Gaskill. Unfortunately, while she no doubt went with Miss Jones for you as it appeared the two of you had similar proportions, it turned out that your bust was heavier and your hips wider, which only served to cause you embarrassment.

“We’ll have to get you somethin’ that fits better once we’re off this mountain.” Miss Jones said, handing you a coat to make you warmer, and to cover up the rather embarrassing amount of your chest that was on display.

“I’ve always had a little trouble finding clothes that fit.” You said, wrapping the coat around you. “It’s just one of those things.” You smiled, doing your best to hide just how insecure this frustratingly persistent issue made you. As a child you were “awkwardly shaped”, as so many put it. Of course you knew what that really meant, and the phrasing only served to make you uncomfortable whenever going to get clothes.

You settled back down beside Sadie, feeling much better now that you were wearing something warm. You truly were surprised at the kindness these people were showing you and Sadie, considering that they were meant to be outlaws, and you felt awful for prejudging them, especially since you’ve had to deal with people’s pre-convinced judgements of you all your life.

“So, if you don’t mind me askin’...” Miss Gaskill looked between you and Sadie. “What...what happened?”

Immediately you looked over at Sadie to gauge her reaction, and see if she wanted to speak. But she just continued to stare into the fire, face empty.

You gently placed a hand on hers and squeezed it. “Those men, the O’Driscolls, they said they just wanted some shelter. So we, well, Jake and I, we let them in.” You paused as a lump started to form in your throat and a startling realization came to you.

You were partly at fault for what happened.

If you had been as skeptical as Sadie and vetoed Jake’s decision with her, then none of that would’ve happened. You would still have a home, and Sadie would still have a husband.

“And, well.” You tried to swallow the lump in your throat down, but it refused to move, forcing you to try and speak around it which only resulted in you sounding strangled. “I’m sure you can guess the rest.”

There was a heavy silence after you spoke, and you could feel the pity radiating off the other women. Even little Jack seemed upset, although you weren’t entirely sure if he understood just what was being discussed. If he did, that would just make it all even worse.

‘ _ Lord Jesus have mercy me. _ ’ You silently prayed. ‘ _ On all of us. _ ’ You would need to get a new prayer rope.

“We’ve lost some people too.” Miss Jackson said sadly. “We don’t even know where two of them are.”

“I’m sure Mac and Sean are fine.” Miss Jones said. “They always find a way.”

Knowing that some of them had hope made you smile and warmed your heart. You looked up at one of the windows and saw that the snow had eased up a little, and it looked like you would actually be able to walk through it without much difficulty.

“I’m going to check on Gladys.” You told Sadie. “I won’t be long.”

She only nodded, and you squeezed her hand before excusing yourself and venturing outside.

The stark contrast between the shelter and relative warmth of the house you had just been in and the open cold of the outside immediately made goosebumps form all over your body, but you ignored them and trudged your way to the snow to Gladys, who had remained hitched to the hitching post, much to your surprise.

“How you doing girl?” You asked gently, stroking her dark mane.

She whinnied, gently nudging your face.

“I know.” You said softly, doing your best to soothe and ease her. “I don’t know how much longer we’re gonna be here, but hopefully it won’t be too long.”

Gladys snorted, sounding a little skeptical to you.

“It never hurt to have hope.” You pointed out. You stroked her long face, fingers gliding along the black patch that formed a mask like pattern around her eyes. “Things are going to be different from now on girl.” You said softly. “These people were nice enough to take us in and it looks like we’re going to stay with them for a while, so you behave, ok?”

Gladys snorted again and stomped a hoof, but she still nuzzled her nose against your cheek, making you giggle.

“Uh, ‘scuse me, Miss [Last name]?”

You jumped, slightly startled, and clutched onto Gladys harder. You looked up, and saw Mr Morgan approaching you, along with Mr Van Der Linde, Mr Bell, and three other men you didn’t recognise. “Oh, Mr Morgan!” You slackened your grip around Gladys’s neck, allowing her to turn her head and eye Mr Morgan with what you suspected was suspicion. “Can I help you?”

Mr Morgan looked between you and Gladys. “I was just uh, wonderin’, if I could borrow Gladys? The boys and I-” he gestured to the other men with him, “-we’re gonna investigate a possible O’Driscoll camp, and I-well I need a horse.”

“Oh! Of course!” You quickly moved to unhitch Gladys from the post and handed her reins to Mr Morgan. “She’s a little temperamental, but a very good horse.” You assured him.

“Thank you.” Mr Morgan approached Gladys, but was forced to step back when Gladys reared up, whinnying harshly.

“Gladys!” You quickly took the reins back and tugged on them, forcing Gladys to stand normally again. “Gladys behave.” You said firmly, giving Mr Morgan a glance. “Mr Morgan is a very nice man Gladys, he saved us last night, remember?”

Gladys made a sound that you interrupted to be one of reluctance.

“If you’re good for him I’ll give you all the sugar cubes you can eat.”

That made Gladys’s ears twitch, and she looked from you to Mr Morgan. She snorted and shook herself, but she didn’t seem to be protesting.

You smiled, patting her neck. “Better.” You gave Mr Morgan the reins again with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Like I said, temperamental, but still good.”

Mr Morgan nodded, and was a little slower in his approach to Gladys. When she didn’t rear up again, Mr Morgan mounted her, still watching her to see if she would react badly again. “I’ll bring her back in one piece.” He promised.

You smiled kindly at him. “Don’t worry Mr Morgan, I trust you.” You looked back down at Gladys. “Be good.” You patted her neck and stepped back to give the men room to ride out. As you watched them leave, you saw Mr Morgan give you another glance back, and you gave him a smile and a small wave.

Mr Morgan quickly looked away, but Mr Bell waved back at you, with a look you couldn’t decipher.

Frowning, you went back inside the house.

“Who’s riding on out?” Miss Jones asked.

“Mr Morgan and some of the other men.” You replied, quickly closing the door. “Apparently they know where some O’Driscolls are hiding out.” You sat back beside Sadie.

“Wish I could go with them.”

The quiet viciousness and venom in Sadie’s voice startled you. “You need to gather your strength.” You reminded her after getting over some of your shock. “Then you can worry about that.”

Sadie didn’t reply.

While Sadie being aggressive wasn’t in and of itself surprising, the heart and passion she was putting behind it certainly was, and very worrying besides.

Trying to push that to the back of your mind, you talked to the other women, learning how they each come to be in the gang and how they all ended up in the Grizzlies in the first place.

You were sorry to hear that you had some lost people on the way, and it made you empathise with them more. These people were truly a family, as much as you and Sadie were, and to see them express that closeness warmed you.

Every now and then you glanced back at Sadie, to see if she showed any signs of joining in the conversation, but she never did.

You frowned, and prayed that whatever darkness had wormed its way into Sadie’s heart would die before it could infect her further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo.......im considering making a modern au to this fic...........would anyone like that? anyways check out my tumblr, lucacangettathisass, and leave a comment and kudos!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yikes so….this one took a while! yeah i’ve just been busy with work and playing red dead and junk. speaking of i’m aware i’ve done stuff out of order but listen. listen. i got no excuse.
> 
> please leave a kudos and a comment to lmk what you think! enjoy!

As you sat with the other ladies and Jack around the fire, you were all joined by a slim, older man with round glasses and a heavy coat. “I hope you all don’t mind.” He said, with a distinctly European accent. “The Reverend has been trying my patience.”

“Of course Herr Strauss.” Miss Grimshaw looked over at you and Sadie. “This is Leopold Strauss, he does the bookkeeping.”

You regarded the man curiously. “Are you from Germany Herr Strauss?”

Mr Strauss looked at you with a raised brow. “Vienna.”

You smiled brightly. “I’ve heard wonderful things about Vienna.” You said. “How long have you been in America?”

“Since 1863.” He replied, warming his hands. “Where did you hear about Vienna?”

“My mother worked for a Russian widow who spent a lot of her time in Vienna.” You explained. “She always spoke very highly of the city.”

Mr Strauss nodded slowly, regarding you with curiosity. “Do you speak German?”

Your smile grew wider. “ Fließend.” You replied, with some pride. “Die Witwe hat es mir beigerbracht.”

That made Mr Strauss smile, while everyone else looked between the two of you in confusion. “She said that the widow taught her how to speak German.” He explained to everyone. “It’ll be nice to speak German with someone who can actually understand.”

You laughed lightly. “I’m sure, although it’s been a while since I had ample opportunity to speak it, so I may not be perfect.”

“It’s better than nothing.”

You laughed again, and to your delight saw Mr Strauss smile wider.

“Some old widow taught you German?” Miss Jones seemed rather intrigued.

“She taught me a lot of things.” You replied. “I owe her a great deal.” You crossed yourself out of habit, silently praying that her soul was resting as peacefully as she deserved. “She died a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Mr Strauss said. “She clearly meant a lot to you.”

“Thank you, you’re very kind to say so.” You said. Now that you were able to think more clearly, you saw that you had to try and get as many of the gang members on your side as possible as long as you and Sadie were with them. The more they liked you both, the easier it would be. Thankfully if there was one thing you knew how to do, it was charm people. “You mentioned a Reverend?”

“A former Reverend.” Miss Grimshaw said. “He ain’t much of one these days.”

That made you frown. As a child you went to church often, and you had always admired those that had chosen to spend the rest of their lives walking with the Lord, so to hear of one falling from grace hurt you, as ridiculous as that sounded. But it also intrigued you to know that a band of outlaws had a Reverend of all things with them.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You said quietly, and your fingers twitched, momentarily going for your prayer rope before you remembered that it was lost, along with just about everything else you had ever called yours. “So, who else do you have with you all?”

Miss Grimshaw told you of the other members you had yet to meet; Dutch’s lover Molly O’Shea, a disgraced soldier called Bill Williamson, the former revolutionary fighter Javier Escuella, young Lenny Summers whom Miss Grimshaw praised for his intellect, the lost and troublesome Irishman Sean Macguire who was hopefully with the equally troublesome and twice as brash Mac Callander, and an old man known simply as Uncle.

“Uncle?” You furrowed your brow. “Has he never given you all a proper name?”

“Nope.” Miss Jackson spoke up as she prodded the fire to keep it alive. “We’ve all asked, but he’s never given a straight answer.”

That left you flummoxed. You could understand one not wanting to give their real identity if they were an outlaw, but surely they would provide a proper name, rather than just ‘Uncle’. It made you wonder what kind of life ‘Uncle’ had lead. And trying to figure out how exactly you would address him as you would no doubt have to some time soon.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Miss Roberts clinging onto Jack as he sat in her lap, whispering into his ear. You watched them for a bit, feeling your heart ache for the little boy. “What do you like to do Jack?” You smiled kindly at him, trying to put him more at ease.

Jack shrugged, avoiding looking at you. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do Jack.” Miss Roberts said. She looked up at you. “He loves to read.”

You instantly perked up, smiling wider. “What do you like to read?”

Jack glanced up at you before shyly looking away again. “Fairy tales.” He said. “Uncle Hosea likes to read to me too.”

You nodded, touched and surprised at the idea of Mr Matthews doing something so...well, normal. It never occurred to you that people like this, outlaws and criminals, could be so domestic. “Do you read with your father?”

There was a sudden silence, and you felt a sharp rise of tension in the atmosphere, which in turn made you tense and anxious.

“His father ain’t really the readin’ type.” Miss Roberts said bitterly. “Not much of a fatherin’ type at all really.”

You felt your heart sink and you looked back down at Jack, who was frowning at the floor. “I’m very sorry to hear that Miss Roberts.” You said sincerely.

She shrugged. “It’s fine, the others around here help, particularly Arthur.”

That made you smile a little. “That’s good to hear, a boy needs a strong man in his life.” You looked back at Jack and leaned in closer to him. “So, what have you been reading lately?”

* * *

With some encouragement from his mother, Jack opened up and you found him to be a very chatty, and adorably precocious child. He talked animatedly about the stories of kings and knights of round tables he read with Mr Matthews, and of the games he made up and would play, either with others or by himself. As he spoke, you got the feeling that he felt rather lonely at times, even though he was surrounded by people who cared for him. Rather notably, he said very little about his father, and that made you feel for the boy. There was Mr Matthews and Mr Morgan, but you knew that nothing could truly replace a father.

All of a sudden, the low thunder of hooves cut through the conversations, making you all turn your heads. You jumped to your feet, wrapping the coat Miss Jones had given you around yourself as tight as you could. “I’m going to make sure the men are alright and that Gladys behaved herself.” You said, going to the door.

“I’m coming with you.”

You turned and looked at Sadie quizzically. “I’ll be right outside Sadie, not that far.”

“I’m coming anyway.” She looked and sounded stern, and you knew better than to try and argue this further.

The wind had died down somewhat from earlier, but the snow was still heavy and the cold still biting. As you and Sadie trudged through the snow towards the men, and you quickly noticed that Gladys and Mr Morgan weren’t among them.

“Gladys?” You looked around, thinking that maybe you had simply missed the two of them.

“Your horse is fine.” One of the men said as he approached you. He was darker than the others, but not as much as Mr Smith, and had a very finely groomed moustache and fashionable hat. In fact, he appeared to be the most well groomed of the men you had seen thus far. “We spotted another O’Driscoll on our way back and Arthur went after him.”

“Oh, that’s good to know.” You let out a sigh of relief. “Are the rest of you alright?”

“Perfectly fine.” The man replied, hitching his horse to the post.

“Did you kill all them bastards?”

You stared at Sadie, more than a little startled at her question. The rage in her eyes and the growling ferocity in her voice shocked you, and made you deeply uneasy.

The man seemed to be just as surprised, although you imagined it was far more jarring for him, as he didn’t know her at all. His eyes flicked over to you before going back to Sadie. “As many as we could.”

“Good.”

You felt goosebumps rise over every inch of your body in a way that had nothing to do with the cold.

“Sadie, are you-”

The heavy sound of hooves interrupted you, and you turned to see Gladys galloping into view, Mr Morgan on her back, and something stowed on her rear. Something that couldn’t stop struggling.

“What you got for us Arthur?” Mr Van Der Linde waded through the thick snow to Mr Morgan, and you stepped aside to allow him more room, noting the look of subdued glee on his face.

“An O’Driscoll.” Mr Morgan walked around behind Gladys and you saw that the something stowed on Gladys was, in fact, a someone. A young man, with scraggly facial hair and wide, terrified eyes. He didn’t seem like the O’Driscolls that had invaded the house and killed Jake. He was far too jittery, and you felt a little sorry for him. “Kieran Duffy.”

You saw that Mr Morgan had a look on his face that was similar to Mr Van Der Linde’s, appearing to be entirely too pleased with having a man captive. You didn’t enjoy it.

Mr Morgan tried to remove Kieran Duffy from Gladys, but she stepped aside, resulting in Mr Morgan stumbling forward slightly, his hands grasping at air.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Sadie smirking.

“Careful there Morgan.” Mr Bell’s voice called out, sounding just as amused as Sadie appeared to be.

“Gladys.” You said in a warning tone.

That appeared to be enough, as while Gladys did huff, she didn’t move again when Mr Morgan removed Kieran Duffy and cut him free, forcing him to stand before Mr Van Der Linde.

While Mr Van Der Linde spoke to Kieran Duffy, mentioning something about “feeding people as needs feeding” that didn’t sit right with you, you went to Gladys, leading her back to the hitching post and tying her reins to it securely.

“You need to be nicer to these people.” You told her in a low voice. “They’re treating us well.”

Gladys only huffed, apparently uninterested in your concerns.

At the sound of crunching snow, you turned your head, and saw Mr Morgan approach you. Gladys huffed again, harder this time, and snorted, kicking at the snow. She was clearly agitated, but you couldn’t understand why. “Sorry about that earlier.” You said sheepishly, gently stroking Gladys’s face in an attempt to calm her.

Mr Morgan shrugged, and his eyes went to Gladys, seemingly amused. “It’s fine.” He attempted to approach Gladys, but she stepped aside, at least as much as she could while being securely hitched. Mr Morgan furrowed his brow slightly, but shrugged. “She’s fast.” He said approvingly.

You smiled, a sense of pride filling you. “She’s full of surprises.” You added, turning back to Gladys to stroke her face again. “Even if she does have an attitude.”

Gladys flattened her ears against her head and snorted, turning her head away in an offended manner.

Mr Morgan chuckled deeply, his eyes traveling over to you.

It was the first time you were able to get a good look at him, or at least as good of a look as you could get while he was bundled up. He was tall and broad, not as much as Mr Smith but still impressive, unkempt facial hair, and you could just make out hair that seemed to be stuck between a particularly dirty blond and light brown. But what caught your attention the most were his eyes. They were a clear, sharp blue, like a summer sky. The kind of blue that almost seemed fake, and only got more so the longer you looked.

There wasn’t much else you could concretely make out, but there was no mistaking that what you saw was very handsome.

You felt your cheeks flush and immediately turned back to Gladys. You were actually glad it was so cold, it gave a natural explanation for the shiver that went down your spine.

“You’ve got yourself a fine animal there Miss.”

His voice was deep and had a distinctive drawl, the kind that was oddly endearing.

“Thank you.” It came out as a whisper, and you felt your face heat up even more.

“[Name]!”

You turned and looked at Sadie, having somehow completely forgotten she was there, and saw that she was frowning. “Let’s get back inside.”

“Alright Sadie.” You turned to back to Mr Morgan to say goodbye, but he was already trudging away to another house, probably the one that he had taken residence in for his stay here.

You frowned, but were unsurprised. After all, since when did men like Mr Morgan waste their time with girls like you?

“[Name]!”

“I’m coming!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s that sound you ask? Why, that’s the sound of me shooting myself in the goddamn foot for not watching a playthrough of chapter one to actually see what happens so I can write everything out accurately. oh well. description of stitching up a wound in this chapter, don’t know if it’s entirely accurate but i did feel a little nauseous while writing it so just a warning (of course im already sick so that might have something to do with it but eh).  
as always kudos and feedback is greatly appreciated!

Later, you learned that the man Mr Morgan had brought back with him, Mr Duffy, claimed to have only been with the O’Driscolls for a few months, and that he hated their leader, Colm, as much as the rest of the gang. However, Mr Van Der Linde appeared to be unconvinced, and decreed that poor Mr Duffy was to be tied up in the barn with some of the other horses, and denied all food and drink.

You felt rather sorry for him. After all, he was on a snow-covered mountain, surrounded by enemies that were heavily armed. The least that Mr Van Der Linde could do was allow him  _ some _ comforts, at least in your mind.

When you shared these thoughts with Sadie that night, quietly, and away from the other women, her mouth contorted into a cruel sneer. You knew it wasn’t meant for you, but you flinched all the same. “He’s an  _ O’Driscoll _ .” She snarled. “You don’t owe him nothin’, least of all your pity.”

Maybe she was right. Sadie always said you had a bad habit of wanting to fix people. But then you thought of the look of terror on Mr Duffy’s face when he saw Mr Van Der Linde, like he truly thought he was about to meet his maker, and you couldn’t find it within yourself to hate him the way you hated the O’Driscolls that had taken advantage of your willingness to help them, and killed Jake. Those men had been made of something meaner than whatever it was Mr Duffy had in him.

You hoped he would live long enough to prove you right.

* * *

“I ain’t waitin’ any longer.”

You looked up Miss Roberts, pausing in your braiding of Sadie’s hair. “Miss Roberts?”

If she heard you she showed no reaction, just wrung her hands and paced. “It’s been too long, someone should be out there looking for him.”

“That ain’t your decision to make.” Miss Grimshaw said sternly, lighting herself a cigarette.

“Hosea said he would send someone out if John wasn’t back, and he ain’t back!” Miss Roberts argued, with more force than you expected.

“Miss Roberts,” you started gently, “I’m sure Mr Matthews is already organising to have someone go out looking for him. He understands how worried you are.”

This seemed to placate Miss Roberts somewhat, but she was still clearly fretful. “I-I just don’t like it is all. It’s cold out there, and who knows what kind of trouble he could get into.”

She had a point. The cold and thick snow alone were causes for concern, but you knew that wolves lurked on the mountain range as well, and you had heard whispers of a deadly gang hiding out in one of the more remote parts of the wilderness. You had a hard time deciding which would be worse to run into.

Just as you felt the hairs on your body rise, the door opened before quickly closing, heralding the arrival of what could only be more gang members. It was odd, how quickly you had adjusted to being around outlaws.

You recognized Mr Morgan, Mr Matthews, and the well-groomed man, and they were handing out bowls of the same warm soup from the day before. The well-groomed man approached you and Sadie, a bowl in each hand.

“Thank you.” You said, taking both and handing one to Sadie.

“Arthur!” Miss Roberts was almost immediately at Mr Morgan’s side. “H-How you doing?”

Mr Morgan raised an eyebrow before giving Miss Roberts, Jack, and Miss Jackson bowls of soup. “Just fine Abigail. And you?”

“I need you to-” Miss Roberts was momentarily cut off by Mr Morgan scoffing slightly, but she remained undeterred. “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry to ask-”

“It’s little John.” Mr Morgan sounded partly exasperated, partly amused, which confused you a little. “He’s got himself caught into a scrape again.”

To say you were surprised at Mr Morgan’s apparent lack of concern would be an understatement, and made you wonder what kind of relationship the two men had. But then, you knew men had a tendency to conceal how they truly felt, even about those they cared about, with very few exceptions.

“He ain’t been seen in two-” Miss Roberts cut herself off as her voice rose, and you could see her make a mighty effort to calm herself. “In two days.”

“Your John’ll be fine.” Mr Morgan insisted. “I mean, he may be as dumb as rocks, and as dull as rusted iron, but that ain’t changing because he got caught in some snowstorm!”

You exchanged a glance with Sadie, and she also seemed surprised at how blase Mr Morgan was being.

“At least go take a look.” Everyone turned their attention to Mr Matthews. “Javier?”

For a moment you were confused, before you heard a “Yes?”, and realized that it had come from the well-groomed man. This made you realize that he was none other than Javier Escuella, the Mexican man Miss Grimshaw had told you about.

“Javier, will you ride out with Arthur, to take a look for John?” Mr Matthews looked from Mr Morgan to Mr Escuella. “You’re the two best fit men we’ve got.”

“Now?” Mr Escuella sounded reluctant, but whether that was because of the conditions or his own feelings towards his missing comrade you couldn’t say.

“She’s...we’re all...we’re pretty worried about him.” Mr Matthews put a hand on Miss Roberts’s shoulder, and you were touched at the show of affection.

Mr Escuella nodded, his previous reluctance apparently forgotten as he approached Mr Morgan. “I know if the situation were reversed and…” He handed Mr Morgan a gun, which you had no idea he had on him, and your eyes widened at the sight of it. “He’d look for me.”

Mr Morgan sighed, but he took the gun from Mr Escuella all the same, and the two men made for the door.

“Thank you!” Miss Roberts smiled, and it warmed your heart to see it.

“Mr Morgan!” You spoke before you could stop yourself, just as Mr Escuella had his hand on the door handle. “You-you can borrow Gladys if you want.”

Mr Morgan seemed surprised at the offer and raised a brow. “You think she’ll let me?”

“I think she knows how she should behave from now on.” You said confidently. “Just-just tell her I said to let you ride her.”

Mr Morgan appeared skeptical, but he nodded, and with a short burst of cold air, he and Mr Escuella were gone.

“Is Papa coming home?” Jack looked up at his mother, eyes filled with hope.

“Here’s hoping.” Abigail sat back down and brought her son into her lap, cradling him.

“Gonna need more than hope.” Sadie said.

“Sadie!” You scolded, glancing back at Jack to see his reaction.

“What? You know I’m right.” She looked at everyone else. “That’s rough terrain out there, even without a snowstorm. Throw in the animals that are out there, and those boys are gonna have their work cut out for them.”

You frowned, wholly disapproving of Sadie’s pessimism. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.” You said, with more firmness than you usually use. You smiled kindly at Jack and Miss Roberts. “Mr Morgan and Mr Esceualla sound like very capable men, I doubt they’ll have much trouble.”

Sadie made a noise of skepticism but said nothing, possibly sensing your displeasure.

Even if what she said was true, that didn’t mean she had to say it.

* * *

As the hours ticked by, you became more and more anxious, wondering what had befallen Mr Morgan and Mr Escuella in their search for their friend. You occasionally glanced over at Miss Roberts and Jack to see how they were feeling, but they were being comforted by Mr Matthews so you had no real cause for concern.

The whole time you thought of Sadie’s words. You had always tried to be optimistic, after all, people who are positive are far more pleasant to be around than those that aren’t, but you couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that she was right. That perhaps the worst had happened, and that Mr Morgan and Mr Escuella would return with a corpse. If they returned at all.

Just as the world outside got darker and you were beginning to consider turning to prayer, you heard yelling from outside. You couldn’t make out what was being said, but you had a feeling you knew what was afoot.

You watched as Mr Matthews and Miss Roberts rushed outside, Jack only being held back because of Miss Jackson. You all exchanged glances, and seemed to be holding a single collective breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

After what had felt like entirely too long, the door swung open, revealing a relieved Mr Matthews. That was promising.

“He’s gonna need your help Susan.” He said to Miss Grimshaw. He seemed to pause before turning to you. “Are burned hands all you can treat?”

A little surprised, it took you a moment to register that he had said and formulate a response. “I-No. I can do other things too.”

“What about scratches? Deep ones. From animals.”

You swallowed. “I have a friend who likes to hunt.” You said. “I’ve had to fix him up plenty of times.”

This seemed to be enough for Mr Matthews and he nodded. “You can come help too then.”

Despite being somewhat hesitant, you nodded. When you stood, you felt a hand on yours. You looked down and saw Sadie giving you a stern look. “You don’t have to help everyone who asks.” She said in a low voice.

“We owe them.” You reminded her. “I’ll be fine.” You gave her hand a reassuring pat before pulling away, following Miss Grimshaw out into the snow.

You managed to catch a glimpse of Gladys, and noticed that she was tied to the hitching post. You vaguely wondered if she was behaving because she knew how bad the situation was, and if she would go back to her usual ways once you were all out of the woods.

The building across from the one you were staying in with the other women was just as dubious looking as all the others, and only a little larger. You supposed that there were men than women in this gang, which didn’t really surprise you.

Once inside, you hung back a little, not wanting to overly insert yourself in what was clearly a delicate matter. You stayed at the edge of the small group that had formed, unable to see past them.

“Come on now, let Susan get a good look at him.” Mr Matthews said, urging everyone to stand aside. “Looks like he’ll need some stitches and a splint for the leg.”

The group parted, allowing Miss Grimshaw to get closer, and you tentatively followed behind.

Lying on a cot against the back wall was a tall, wiry looking man, with dark hair, and three deep cuts on his face. He was looking up at Miss Grimshaw before his dark eyes traveled to you. “Who’s this?” He asked, voice raspy and hoarse.

“[Name] [Surname].” Mr Matthews said. “She and her cousin Sadie will be with us for a while. [Name], meet John Marston.”

“How do you do Mr Marston.”

Mr Marston snorted.

You swallowed nervously. “Do-do we have any morphine? Or anything else that could ease the pain?”

“No.” Miss Grimshaw said, with surprising sharpness. “He’s going to have to cope without.”

Her reaction was confusing but you didn’t have time to dwell on it as a bottle of whiskey was quickly produced.

Miss Grimshaw uncorked the bottle and poured the contents over the bloody wounds, making Mr Marston clench his jaw and cringe.

You instinctively put a hand on his arm and gently squeezed. “It will be over soon.” You said soothingly.

“What happened to him?” You heard Miss Roberts ask.

“Wolves apparently.” Mr Morgan said, with a surprising amount of annoyance. “Couldn’t seem to be able to handle them on his own.”

“And his horse?”

“Wolves got her.” Mr Marston replied through clenched teeth. “Broke my leg when I got to the ledge where Arthur and Javier found me.”

You gazed at Mr Marston in amazement. Through freezing cold, a broken leg, wolves, and no doubt starvation, he managed to hold onto life. You couldn’t imagine the kind of mental fortitude that would require. ‘ _ He’s so brave. _ ’ You thought breathlessly. ‘ _ Incredible… _ ’

You watched as Miss Grimshaw stopped pouring the whiskey and got out a needle and thread. She sanitized the needle with a few drops of the alcohol before passing over to you. “Go on.” She said. “Let’s see what you can do.”

Now feeling every pair of eyes on you, you took the needle and thread, turning back to Mr Marston as you knelt beside him. “You’ve done very well so far.” You said.

He snorted again. “I ain’t done nothing.”

“You’ve survived.” You pointed out. “I wouldn’t call that nothing.”

You threaded the needle and tied off the end before leaning in closer to Mr Marston. It was obvious that the wounds would leave lasting scars, but if you did this right, then they shouldn’t be too bad. You would dare say that they would add a certain level of mystique and intrigue to him, as even while he was in this state you knew he was very handsome.

‘ _ Stop it. _ ’ You told yourself. ‘ _ He already has someone. Now focus you silly girl. _ ’

You lined up the needle as carefully as you could. “Let me know if it gets to be too much.” You said softly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Mr Marston gave no reaction that time.

Slowly, you pierced the skin, leading the needle and thread through the gaping wound, pulling out the other end and giving a slight tug to make sure it was properly taut and closed. You looked at Mr Marston, and saw that his jaw was once again clenched, and his knuckles were now white from gripping the cot. But he made no sound, and barely moved a muscle.

You continued with the stitches, silently in awe of the constitution Mr Marston had. You had no doubt that he had acquired it over his time as an outlaw, but it impressed you nonetheless. However, you were still careful in your movements to make sure you didn’t cause him any more pain, and made sure to watch what you were doing. Dexterity wasn’t something you lacked, far from it really, but you knew to still be cautious and make sure the thread didn’t tangle or get caught or leave too much of a gap for the wound to heal properly.

“You’re very lucky.” You said as you were close to completing the last stitch. “Things could have been much worse.”

Mr Marston grunted. “Sure don’t feel lucky.” He said, moving his jaw as little as possible so you could finish up the stitch properly.

“Don’t coddle him too much now Miss.” You heard Mr Morgan say from somewhere behind you. “Dutch does that enough.”

A sharp look came over Mr Marston’s features, but it was soon gone.

The dynamic between the two men continued to puzzle you, although you supposed you would be able to make more sense of it over time.

You tied off the last bit of thread and cut off the excess so that it wouldn’t irritate Mr Marston. You gently took his face and turned it slightly at different angles, to see if there was anything else that needed treating. You kept your touch feather light as your fingers skimmed over Mr Marston’s skin, looking for anything that might be a cause for concern. When you were satisfied that there was nothing else amiss, you pulled away, taking the needle and thread and returning them to Miss Grimshaw. “That’s all I can do I’m afraid.” You said apologetically. “I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful.”

Mr Marston said nothing, just stared at you intensely, and you noticed his throat moving to indicate swallowing, but you couldn’t think of a reason as to why he would.

You rose from the floor, legs slightly numb and aching but you ignored it and backed away, allowing Miss Roberts to be by Mr Marston’s side.

Miss Grimshaw exchanged a few hushed words with Mr Matthews before approaching you. “You did well.” She said, and she sounded genuinely impressed.

You flushed a little at the praise and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Knees not feeling too bad?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m fine. I’ve spent a lot of time on my knees.” You thought of the hours you spent as a child praying, and how the kneeling position became almost comfortable, unlike just now. Of course, back then you weren’t as cold and the floors weren’t as rough, so that probably had something to do with it.

As you left the building with Miss Grimshaw to return to the other women, you looked back over your shoulder at Mr Marston. “He needs a proper doctor.” You said in a hushed tone, not wanting anyone to hear and cause panic.

“Once we’re off this damn mountain he’ll see one.” Miss Grimshaw said firmly. “But for now, you’ll have to do.”

The thought of being Mr Marston’s doctor made you swallow thickly, but you nodded, not wanting to talk back. “Yes ma’am.”

The thaw couldn’t come quick enough.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof got a long one here fellers! but also a pretty speedy update by my standards so im very happy! small warning for some suggestive language and micah being a creepy dick. as always kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! have a good one!

Over the following few days, you remained with the other women, only seeing the men who chose to bring in food. This was usually Mr Matthews, Mr Pearson, and Herr Strauss, although Mr Escuella would occasionally pop in. Herr Strauss in particular seemed to have grown fond of you, as he would linger and speak with you in German. You found him to be an erudite and rather friendly man, and you enjoyed his conversation, and the fact that you seemed to have made a friend.

Shortly after Mr Marston’s return, Mr Morgan and Mr Smith went hunting and returned with two deer, which lifted everyone’s spirits considerably. Even Sadie seemed impressed at the mens’ efforts, which you hoped meant she would actually grow to respect them, and possibly even like them.

About four days after Mr Marston’s rescue, you decided to go check on him, and make sure the stitches were holding up well and nothing had gotten infected.

Sadie, of course, insisted on going with you and wouldn’t take no for an answer, despite the fact that you wouldn’t be that far away.

“I don’t want you out of my sight.” She said as you both trudged through the snow, which had frustratingly gotten thicker following a heavy fall the night before. “I don’t trust any of these degenerates.”

“They’re not degenerates Sadie.” You said. “They’re trying to help us.”

She scoffed.

When you entered the building housing the men, you quickly spotted Herr Strauss in the corner. He had looked up when the door opened and you both exchanged a smile.

“Guten morgen Herr Strauss.” You said politely.

“Guten morgen fraulein.” He looked over your shoulder, where you knew Sadie stood. “Frau Adler. Do you speak German?”

“No.”

Herr Strauss seemed surprised at Sadie’s abrupt and sharp tone, and unsure as to how he should continue the conversation, or if he should continue it at all.

“I’m just here to check on Mr Marston.” You said in an attempt to ease the tension. “I won’t be too much of a bother.”

You approached Mr Marston and saw that Miss Roberts was already at his side, with Jack in her lap. This was hardly a surprise, as Miss Roberts scarcely left Mr Marston’s side since his return, keeping him company and making sure the stitches remained clean as best as she could. It warmed your heart to see such devotion and love.

At some point someone had placed a large bandage over Mr Marston’s right eye, obscuring almost half his face, and making him seem very grim indeed. You felt rather sorry for him.

“How are you today Mr Marston?” You asked, smiling kindly.

“I’m alive, so that’s something.” Mr Marston grunted, his eye looking up and behind you. “You must be Mrs Adler.”

“I am.”

“I’m real sorry about what happened to your husband.” Mr Marston sounded sincere, and you were touched on Sadie’s behalf. “I-Well, I guess it happened to you too.”

It took you a moment to realize that Mr Marston was talking to you. “I-Yes.” You swallowed in an attempt to keep your emotions in check. “But you’ve all been very kind.”

You knelt beside Mr Marston and re-examined his face. Just like last time you kept your touch light, just skimming his skin with the pads of your fingertips, only using force to tilt his head when you needed to, and even then you used as little as possible, so as to not hurt or startle. “So, Mr Marston, have you experienced any irritation? Or seen anything that would perhaps indicate an infection?”

Mr Marston was silent for a few moments, probably in thought. “No.” He said. His voice was a little shaky, which concerned you.

“Is something the matter Mr Marston? You sound odd.”

Mr Marston quickly shook his head. “No, nothin’. It’s uh, it’s just my voice.” He cleared his throat and turned his face away.

Feeling somewhat perplexed, you withdrew your hands from Mr Marston’s face. “Well, you seem to be healing well.” You placed a hand gently on his forearm. “There will be some scarring, but there doesn’t appear to be any other cause for concern.” You gave him an encouraging smile.

He said nothing.

You heard a deep chuckle. “There’s no need for you to be fussin’ over him like that miss.”

You looked over your shoulder and saw Mr Bell, smirking while he lit a cigarette. You offered a smile. “Good day Mr Bell, how have you been?”

Mr Bell snorted. “Cold as sin.” He took a drag of his cigarette and looked you over. He was looking at you the way you had seen collectors look at supposedly valuable items; appraising them from sight alone before deciding if they were worth a closer look. “Bet you could keep me warm though.”

You gave him an apologetic look. “I’m afraid I haven’t fared any better.” You said. “I doubt I would be able to help you.”

Mr Bell’s smirk grew wider, and he chuckled lowly. “I could show you a thing or two if you like.”

“I’m not sure I understand.” You said, genuinely confused as to what Mr Bell was talking about.

“Ignore him.” You saw Mr Escuella standing beside the small fireplace, smoking his own cigarette. He shot Mr Bell a dirty look. “Would it kill you to not be a total jackass to everyone?”

Your eyes moved from Mr Escuella to Mr Bell and back again. You were beginning to feel rather awkward. “How are you feeling Jack?” You asked the young boy, turning to him in an attempt to change the subject and avoid any further tension. “Not too cold?”

“No.” He smiled at you. Over the past few days he appeared to have warmed up to you, which pleased you immensely. You had always loved children, and despite everything, you still dreamed of having some of your own.

“Good.” You smiled. “You let me know if you need anything ok?”

“Ok.”

“You want to sit?” Miss Roberts brought Jack closer to her, and seemed to be rising out of the stool she was sitting on. “I can’t imagine the floor is very comfortable.”

“Oh no no no!” You said quickly. “Really Miss Roberts, there’s no need.” You smiled reassuringly. “It’s like I said to Miss Grimshaw yesterday, I’ve spent a lot of time on my knees.”

To your surprise, Miss Roberts gave you a shocked look. “I-You what?”

You furrowed your brow, standing up. “You know, in church?”

The look of shock on Miss Robert’s face was replaced by one of realization before turning to sheepishness. “Oh! I mean-yeah, ‘course.”

Another chuckle came from behind you, even deeper than the last, and sounding far more amused. “Oh, you really are somethin’ ain’t ya  _ sugar pie _ ?”

You turned, and saw that Mr Bell had moved closer, now only a few feet away. His cigarette was hanging out of his mouth, which was contorted into a smile that wasn’t exactly pleasant. His eyes shone, but not with any emotion or intention you could easily identify. It made the hair on your arms stand up.

It didn’t take long for Sadie to stand in front of you, obscuring your view of Mr Bell. “Back off.” She snarled. “Touch her and you’re fucking dead.”

“Sadie!” You grabbed her arm and tried to pull her back, panicking. While you had grown to know a few of the gang members, Mr Bell was still an unknown variable. None of the other members had said anything about him, so you were flying blind where he was concerned, and you didn’t wish to take any chances. “I’m very sorry about her Mr Bell.” You said hastily, eyes flicking back and forth between the two.

“Don’t apologise to him.” Sadie snapped. She wrenched her arm out of your grip and grabbed your hand. “Come on, we’re gettin’ out of here.”

Before you could react further, Sadie dragged you outside, keeping your hand in a vice like grip.

“Sadie you can’t say things like that to people!” You exclaimed once you were both out in the cold, door slamming shut behind you. “Especially people who help you!”

She snarled and stopped abruptly. “Well you can’t tell people you’re used to being on your knees!”

You frowned. “Why not? Surely they know what I mean?”

“They’ll think you mean-” Sadie stopped and sighed. “Look, just-just forget it.”

Now you were even more confused. “What? They’ll think I mean what?”

“I said forget it!” Sadie snapped.

You winced. “Sorry.” You said softly. You looked down at your feet, cheeks flushing from the cold and embarrassment.

Sadie sighed again, and you felt her wrap her arms around you. “You don’t need to be sorry.” She said softly. “But I am.” She pulled away, holding onto your shoulders, and you looked up at her. She looked tired, haggard, defeated. You had never seen her like that before, and you felt guilty. “You know I worry about you.” She said. “And all of this ain’t helpin’.” She squeezed your shoulders. “But I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you. I’m not angry at you.” The corners of her lips twitched upwards slightly into a smile. “Do you forgive me?”

“Oh Sadie.” You immediately wrapped your arms around her. “Of course I do. I’ll always forgive you.”

You felt her tremble slightly when she hugged you back. Probably the cold.

* * *

Later, while speaking with the women and re-braiding Sadie’s hair, you all received a visitor.

It was a man you had recalled seeing with the other men, in your peripheral vision. He was older, appearing to be close to Mr Matthew’s age, and dressed entirely in black with a rather large hat. Once he took the hat off, you noted his eye catching red hair, which you were sure was far more bright and vibrant in his youth. Now it seemed to have faded, and was accompanied by a considerable amount of grey, while his moustache was seemingly untouched by time.

“A-Afternoon ladies.” He said, looking around until his eyes landed on you.

You paused in your braiding of Sadie’s hair. You looked up at the man, and noted that he was clutching onto his hat, fingers drumming on the rim of it. He seemed nervous, so you smiled kindly. “Good afternoon sir.”

He seemed almost startled, like a child that had been caught doing something they shouldn’t be, but he quickly composed himself. He took a step closer to you. “I uh, I thought I should finally introduce myself.” He held out a hand. “Orville Swanson.”

You felt yourself perk up, and your smile grew wider. “You’re the Reverend right? Miss Grimshaw told me about you.” You took his hand and shook it. “It’s very nice to meet you Reverend Swanson.”

The Reverend seemed startled again, but he shook your hand as well and even smiled. “May I sit?”

“Of course!” You gestured to the empty floor beside you. You resumed braiding Sadie’s hair, but you watched the Reverend from your peripheral. “Is there something you needed Reverend?”

“I uh, I wished to speak to you. About what you said earlier.”

You felt Sadie tense, and you gently squeezed her shoulder to keep her calm. “Which part?”

“The part about church.”

That didn’t surprise you. “Which denomination are you Reverend, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Baptist.” He seemed to hesitate again. “At least, I was. Before…” He trailed off. You remembered how Miss Grimshaw mentioned that he was no longer a member of the clergy, that he had more or less abandoned his post, even before he met the gang. “Well, that was a long time ago. But, what about you? What was your church?”

“Eastern Orthodox.” Even now you could transport yourself to the old church; feel the polished wood, smell the heavy incense, hear the praise and worship of your fellow believers. It made you feel sad. You missed that old church, and all the people you had met because of it.

The Reverend furrowed his brow. “I’m afraid I’ve never heard of that one.” He said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

“Well, it’s more popular in Eastern Europe than here.” You said. “I’m sure it’s numbers pale in comparison to the Baptists.”

The corners of the Reverend’s lips twitched upwards. “So, how did you come to Eastern Orthodoxy?”

The locket around your neck grew heavy, and almost burned. “My mother worked for a wealthy Russian widow.” You explained. “She had immigrated to America years ago, and she kept her religion with her. When I was very young, she was kind enough to take me in, and she raised me with it. It might sound silly but, it almost feels like it’s a part of me now.” A sad smile formed on your face.

“Oh no! That’s not silly at all!”

You looked at the Reverend in surprise at how fervent he was with his words.

“Um, well, I mean-” Apparently embarrassed by his outburst, the Reverend cleared his throat. “It’s...good, to have a uh...rich, spiritual life.” He paused, seemingly trying to fully collect himself. “This kind of life...well, it doesn’t really tend to attract the most spiritual of folks. So, you know, it’s nice to see someone else who has kept their faith.”

You smiled kindly and nodded. “I understand.” You said assuringly. “It’s comforting, having something like that, you know?”

The Reverend seemed to consider this, before smiling. “Yes. It is.”

You smiled back, because for a moment, the Reverend seemed at ease. And looking at him, he didn’t seem like the kind of man who felt like that often. You knew you couldn’t do much, but if you could make someone that happy, then that would be more than enough for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don’t remember if it was ever explicitly stated that swanson is baptist, but considering the church he preaches at in the epilogue is apparently baptist (according to wikipedia) i decided to go with it. the only thing im really sure of about the reverend is that he isnt catholic which does grant me a lot of wiggle room.
> 
> German translations:
> 
> Guten morgen Herr Strauss: Good morning Mr Strauss
> 
> Guten morgen fraulein: Good morning miss
> 
> Frau: Mrs


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aayyyeee another update! man this leave is doing wonders for this fic lmao. slight tw for low self esteem, it’s only one incident bust just to be sure! as always please leave kudos and a comment! have a nice day!

There was fire everywhere.

No matter where you looked you were met with flames so hot that you felt all the moisture in your mouth dry up with a single hacking breath, and the metal of your locket melting into your skin, becoming a part of your flesh.

You tried to run, but the flames were everywhere, obscuring your vision so badly you couldn’t even tell where you were. You brought your hands to your eyes, wiping away the tears, trying to find some way to see clearly. When you opened your eyes, you could just make out a silhouette among the flames, standing completely still.

Elated at seeing someone else, and terrified for their safety, you rushed to them. You couldn’t remember ever being able to run that fast, it felt like you were flying.

“You need to get out!” You somehow managed to force the words out of your smoke clogged throat, if it was only just a strangled sounding cry, sounding like a particularly sick cat. “You-”

The silhouette turned, and you froze in place.

Standing before you amidst the flames, was Jake.

His hair seemed lighter in the light of the fire. His eyes were empty, containing only reflections of the flames surrounding you both.

“JAKE!”

You tried desperately to run to him, but with each breath he seemed to be getting further and further away. You helplessly held out your hands, hoping that if you stretched hard enough, you would be able to grab some part of him.

Then, all at once, you were in front of him.

The flames still raged, but you could no longer feel the heat.

Head spinning and stomaching flipping, you gripped Jake’s shirt, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Jake! Where’s Sadie? We need-” You stopped mid sentence when you a drop of blood fell on your cheek.

You watched in horror as blood began to flow out of Jake’s mouth, like a waterfall. Holes appeared in his forehead and stomach, dark and gnarled around the edges and spilling just as much blood.

Within seconds you were knee deep in Jake’s blood.

You screamed, clawing at Jake’s shirt, trying to get a grip so that you might climb onto him and he would put his arms around you, like when you were a child.

But he remained still, and when you looked into his eyes, you saw your tear streaked face, mouth open to let out your horrified screams.

* * *

You woke with a start, heart pounding.

You whipped your head around and held your breath, expecting to see flames.

But there weren’t any.

Everything was fine and normal, because it had all been a horrible nightmare, and now you were awake and back in Colter.

“You ok?”

With a slight jump, you turned to see Sadie looking at you with worry. You glanced around and saw the other women had more or less the same expression.

Face flushing, you nodded quickly. “Of course.” Your voice sounded strangled, like in your nightmare, and you coughed to try and clear your throat.

As your heart slowed and the biting cold chased away the dream memories of the searing flames, you saw from the corner of your eye Sadie shifting closer to you. “What happened?” She asked, and you knew it would be pointless to pretend you were ok.

“I just...I had a bad dream.” You instinctively moved closer to Sadie’s side, leaning against her as she puts an arm around you. “I’ll be fine.”

For a while the two of you sit together in silence. You thought back to your childhood, where most days you would run into Sadie’s arms, sobbing over how one of the local children had tormented you. It was apparently a favoured hobby of theirs. In this moment, you felt the same kind of helplessness and despair that you had felt all those years ago. You thought you had grown out of it, but clearly not.

You brought your fingers to your locket, and wished that your mother was there to give some kind of guidance and comfort. Of course you knew that was pointless, what physical comfort could the dead provide after all?

You were pulled out of your melancholy by the arrival of food, brought in by Mr Matthews, Mr Pearson and, to your surprise, Mr Escuella.

While the older men went to the other women, Mr Esceulla approached you and Sadie, bowls of stew in each hand. “Hope you haven’t gotten sick of venison yet.”

You sat up straight, quickly smiling as you took both bowls, handing one to Sadie. “Of course not.” You assured him. “Thank you Mr Escuella.”

You expected him to leave with Mr Matthews and Mr Pearson, but he sat in front of the fire instead. Deciding that it wasn’t your place to question his whims, you began to eat, all too aware of the cold stare Sadie was sending Mr Escuella.

Now that you were able to get a closer look at him, you found Mr Escuella to be good looking. He kept his hair in a ponytail, which was something you were unused to seeing on men, but it suited him rather well. His finely trimmed facial hair indicated a sense of pride in his appearance and that he took care of himself. This was something you were used to seeing, but only in polite society, and it had never before occurred to you that outlaws and the like could be as well groomed as that crowd, but this whole experience was doing a lot to alter your previous world views.

“You settling in ok?”

His question brought you back to earth, and you nodded, still smiling. “Yes, everyone has been very kind and accommodating. Thank you.”

Mr Escuella snorted. “Not everyone.”

You furrowed your brow. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“I was talking about Micah.” The tone Mr Escuella used indicated that while they were in the same gang, there didn’t appear to be any kind of friendship between Mr Escuella and Mr Bell. Of course, the interaction they had while you were checking up on Mr Marston was a decent indicator of that too. “Listen, like I said, he’s a jackass. If he gives you any trouble tell one of us ok? Most of us don’t like him so we won’t mind shoving a boot up his ass.”

To say you were surprised would be an understatement. The other women, mainly Miss Jones, had also told you to confide in them should the men prove annoying, and you of course knew that Sadie would be more than willing to lend an ear (and no doubt fist), but to hear one of the men, especially one that appeared to be as well respected and esteemed as Mr Escuella, say such a thing took you aback.

“It’s really fine Mr Escuella.” You assured him. “I didn’t take any offence to what he said.” In truth, you still didn’t know what he had meant. Sadie apparently did, but she still didn’t explain it to you, and you thought better of asking, lest it upset her.

“Still, it would be nice to have an excuse to knock him on his ass.” Mr Escuella pulled out a cigarette case, a rather fine looking one, and opened it, pulling one out. “You want one?” He extended the case to you.

“Oh no, I don’t smoke.” You smiled, feeling yourself warm at Mr Escuella’s friendliness. “But thank you.”

Mr Escuella nodded. “What about you?” His gaze shifted to Sadie.

She remained silent, only eating and glowering at Mr Escuella.

“Alright.” Apparently unfazed, Mr Escuella returned the cigarette case to his pocket, and pulled out a match. He struck it against the heel of his boot and lit his cigarette, tossing it into the fire.

The flames stuttered a little, and you flinched.

If Mr Escuella noticed, he didn’t react. “You did a good job with John.” He took a puff on his cigarette. “The stitches look real clean.”

A flush came to your cheeks, and your smile grew. “That’s very kind of you to say Mr Escuella.”

“Where did you learn to do that?” He looked you up and down. “You don’t seem like the type to get into scrapes with wild animals.”

“No, but an old friend of mine is.” You laughed lightly. “He loves to hunt, and has more boldness than sense, which isn’t a good combination. He would get wounded so often that learning how to tend to those kinds of injuries properly became something of a necessity.”

Mr Escuella chuckled, the sound coming from deep in his chest, and you bloomed with pride knowing that you did that. “Yeah, that’ll do it.” He took another drag. “Where’s he?”

“Russia.”

Mr Escuella raised a brow. “That’s pretty far.”

“His parents wanted him to return home.” You explained. “They felt he had spent enough time here.”

A pensive look came over Mr Escuella’s face. “Yeah. It can be hard being away from family.”

You remembered what the other women had told you about Mr Escuella, how he had more or less been forced into exile for rebelling against the government, leaving his family behind. He hadn’t seen them in years, and their fates were a mystery to him, just as his was to them. That was a despair that you knew was heavier than most. You wanted to say something, maybe even touch his arm or shoulder, but there was too much space between the two of you, both physically and in the sense of status, for you to properly do so. And of course Sadie.

“So what else did you boys find at that O’Driscoll camp, aside from the one we got in the barn?”

Everyone turned to Miss Jones, who was looking eagerly at Mr Escuella.

“Explosives and plans for what was supposed to be their next big robbery.” Mr Escuella sounded rather smug, and you didn’t blame him. You imagined it would’ve been quite the feat. “We must’ve killed a couple dozen of them, but it looks like it’s going to be worth it, because now we’re the ones who’re gonna be robbing Leviticus Cornwall.”

“Mr Cornwall?” You raised your eyebrows and you could almost feel your ears physically perk up at the name. “You’re going to rob Mr Cornwall?”

“Well not him directly, just one of his trains.” Mr Escuella took a drag of his cigarette, regarding you with a curious gaze. “Sounds like you know him.”

“Oh, well, not really.” You felt your face flush again, but this time it was embarrassment rather than happiness. “I only met him once a few years ago, but he left a rather distinct impression. I’ve seen him a small handful of times since, but we never spoke for very long.”

Mr Escuella seemed pensive again as he nodded. “Well, I better get back to the rest of the guys.” He rose to his feet, taking one last puff of his cigarette before it too was tossed into the fire, adding a slight tobacco scent to the air. He turned to you. “Like I said, if Micah gives you any trouble, just get one of us and we’ll take care of it.”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary Mr Escuella, but thank you all the same.”

He nodded, his expression clearly showing that he didn’t believe that all, and left the cabin.

“Looks like Javier’s got his eye on you.” Miss Gaskill said teasingly.

You stared at her with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. “Don’t be ridiculous! I’m sure he was just being kind.”

“Oh yeah, Javier’s real good at being kind, especially to women.” Miss Jackson added, before bursting into giggles along with Miss Gaskill.

“Leave it alone you two.” Miss Roberts interjected, although she too seemed rather amused. “You’re gonna scare her.”

“If he tries anything he’ll be the one that’s scared.” Sadie said gruffly, which only made Miss Gaskill and Miss Jackson laugh harder.

“Oh Javier’s harmless, really.” Miss Roberts said. “I mean, he likes women well enough, but he’s respectful too.”

“He’d better be.” Sadie glowered at the fire.

“Sadie please, he really was just being friendly.” You said, in an attempt to calm her. Really, you did find the idea of Mr Escuella finding you attractive to be not just laughable, but utterly impossible.

Since when did good looking, well groomed men like him show any interest in ugly girls like you?

* * *

You were in the middle of hearing Miss Roberts regale the story of Jack’s first steps, which was funny as it was adorable, when you all received another visitor.

At first you didn’t look up, as you were too wrapped up in the story to really care about anything else, until you heard your name being called. When you did look up, you saw that Mr Escuella had returned, and everyone was looking at you.

Immediately you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You had no idea what was going one, but you doubted that it was good. “Is everything alright Mr Escuella?” You asked, trying to remain calm to hide how scared you really were.

“Dutch and Hosea want to talk with you.” He said.

You felt your throat and lungs constrict like in your dream as every worst possible scenario ran through your mind.

“What do they want with her?” Sadie was on her feet and wasted no time in getting to your side, glaring fiercely at Mr Escuella. “She hasn’t done anything!”

“It’s nothing bad.” Mr Escuella said reassuringly, no doubt seeing how badly things could go if he wasn’t careful. “They just want to talk. That’s all.”

Swallowing thickly, you slowly rose to your feet. “A-Alright.”

“I’m coming with her.” Sadie said firmly, still shooting daggers.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Mr Escuella sounded hesitant, and you didn’t blame him, with the way Sadie was looking at him. “Look, she’s going to be fine. Nothing will happen to her, you have my word.”

“Why should the word of a criminal matter to me?” Sadie hissed.

The atmosphere became tense, and you felt your heart pound against your rib cage.

“She won’t be going far.” Mr Escuella said, calm yet firm. “Just a few yards, if that. If anything happens to her, you can do what you like to me.”

Sadie continued to glare.

“She’ll be fine Mrs Adler.” Miss Grimshaw spoke up, clearly seeing that this wasn’t going to go anywhere without outside interference. “Just let her go. She’ll be fine.”

Sadie clenched her jaw, and for a moment you wondered if she was going to argue. But she didn’t.

Tentatively, you approached Mr Escuella. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Sadie try to reach for you, but Miss Roberts grabbed her wrist just in time. You tried to remain calm, despite feeling distinctly like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf.

Mr Escuella held the door open for you, and when you were both out in the cold you let him lead you to Mr Matthews and Mr Van Der Linde.

“You’re really not in any trouble, I promise.” He said.

You nodded. “I’m sorry about Sadie.”

To your immense surprise, Mr Escuella chuckled. “Ah, don’t worry about it.” He said, and he sounded very genuine. “Listen, I get where she’s coming from. If I was in her place, I wouldn’t want you out of my sight either.”

An immense wave of relief washed over you, and you were even able to smile. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

Mr Escuella smiled. “Don’t worry about it kid.” His voice was kind, almost gentle, and you felt yourself becoming more and more endeared to him.

Just as he said, the house where Mr Matthews and Mr Van Der Linde had moved into wasn’t that far, making Sadie’s concern seem like a major overreaction. And just like before, Mr Escuella held the door open for you.

“Thank you Mr Escuella.”

You stepped inside, and was greeted by a burst of heat. For a moment, you held your breath.

“Here she is Dutch, Hosea.”

The two men looked up, and you saw that they were sitting in front of a contained fireplace, and you were able to quell your fears.

Mr Matthews smiled kindly at you. “Are you cold? You can come closer to the fire if you like.”

You eyed the dancing flames, feeling your heart rate spike. “I’m fine Mr Matthews.”

“Well if you change your mind, just take a seat.” Mr Matthews gestured to an empty chair off in a corner, beside a doorway, where Mr Morgan suddenly appeared.

“Oh, Mr Morgan!” You didn’t know he had taken up residence in the same house as Mr Matthews and Mr Van Der Linde, and seeing him made your face flush from surprise. “How are you?”

“Fine.” He was regarding you curiously. “So, I hear you know Leviticus Cornwall.”

For a moment, you were so wrapped up in your surprise, that you didn’t realize what he had said. “Oh well, I-I wouldn’t say that I know him.” You looked back over at Mr Matthews and Mr Van Der Linde. “Is that what this is about?”

“Yes.” Mr Van Der Linde’s eyes roamed over you, and he had the same look of curiosity as Mr Morgan. “Javier told us you met him once, and that he made quite the impression.”

“I-Well yes, that is true.” You kept your eyes on Mr Van Der Linde, although you couldn’t ignore Mr Morgan’s gaze, or the heat that rose up your neck because of it.

“Now see, _that_ is what interested me.” Mr Van Der Linde smiled in a way that you couldn’t quite describe. “How did that happen?”

You hesitated. “Well, it’s a bit of a long story.”

“We ain’t goin anywhere.” Mr Morgan was leaning against the doorframe, the collar of his heavy blue coat partially obscuring his face, and making his already striking eyes even more disarming. “So go on.”

“Don’t rush her Arthur.” Mr Matthews gently scolded. “I’m very sorry about him, he forgets how to behave sometimes.”

“Th-there’s no need for apologies Mr Matthews.” You were only just able to tear your gaze away from Mr Morgan to look at Matthews when you spoke, but you still felt his eyes on you.

The feeling of being a rabbit in a wolf’s mouth had returned, but it was...different, somehow. Tinged with something you couldn’t name.

“Well, if you truly wish to know…” You trailed off, looking from Mr Matthews to Mr Van Der Linde and back again.

“We most certainly do.” Mr Van Der Linde replied, looking very eager.

You sighed. You supposed that they were all going to find out eventually, might as well make it now.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the slow update! ive been doing some full on hours at work (my manager literally told me that im doing full time hours despite being part time lmao rip) so that’s been leaving me a little drained lmao but hey at least we got there!
> 
> more mentions of low self esteem, those are gonna be a lot more prevalent from here on out actually.
> 
> also! ive made a post about this on my tumblr (*cough* lucacangettathisass *cough*) but im gonna eventually get around to doing a little companion series exploring the pov of other characters in this fic, stepping out of the reader's view for a little bit to look at how others reacted to certain events, so be on the lookout for that!
> 
> on another note, i’ve been wondering if i should rewrite this as an oc fic rather than a reader one. thoughts? i might not even do it, but im curious to hear what you guys think.
> 
> anyways, hope you all enjoy!
> 
> p.s. pls check out waking up slow by mountainhymn on tumblr!!!! it is so wonderful im still crying

“Well, it really all started with my momma.” You felt yourself begin to fidget and made an effort to stand completely still. “She got a job working for a wealthy Russian widow, Mrs Zamolodchikova.”

Mr Morgan let out a low whistle. “Now that’s a name.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “A lot of Russian names are like that. As I was saying, she hired my momma to be a maid when I was still very young. Mrs Zamolodchikova treated us very well, we even lived in a little cottage she had on her land.”

Despite all the years that had passed, you still thought of that cottage fondly. It had been small and not impressive by any means, but it had been your home for most of your childhood. You had a lot of good memories of it.

“I...I lost my momma when I was seven.” Even now, twelve years later, it hurt to say. Your mother had been your whole world, everything began and ended with her, and it had never once occurred to you when you were a child, that you would one day have to face the world without her. She loved you too much to do that to you. And then it happened anyway.

You had never experienced a heart break like it before, or since.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” Mr Matthews said gently.

“It’s alright.” You assured him, trying to speak around the lump that always formed in your throat whenever you thought about losing your mother. “She had been ill for as long as I could remember, it was only a matter of time.”

“I imagine your aunt and uncle took you in?”

“They wanted to, but Mrs Zamolodchikova stepped in. She said that she saw it as her Christian duty to take me in as a ward, and that’s what I became.” It had stunned you at the time to learn that Mrs Zamolodchikova cared for you that much. You would always be grateful for her kindness, it had changed your life. “She had no children of her own, so I think she wanted me to fill that gap.”

“That was very kind of her.” Mr Matthews sounded surprised, and you supposed that it made sense. You couldn’t imagine that he had come across many people willing to take in the child of an employee, particularly among the rich. You certainly had never seen such a thing in your time among them.

You nodded in agreement. “She taught me etiquette and how to behave in upper class circles, and as I got older I became her companion. That was how I met Mr Cornwall.”

A spark appeared in Mr Van Der Linde’s eyes, and you knew that you really had his full interest now. “How did that come about?”

“He was looking for investors in his business, he was just starting out you see, and he needed some capital.”

“So he went to Mrs Zamolodchikova?” Mr Van Der Linde asked. “She must’ve been rather rich.”

“Exceedingly so.” You said. “Her family is very old Russian money, and when she came to America with her husband, her wealth only grew, even after he died. I imagine Mr Cornwall thought that if he could convince her to invest, he would have an easy time of building his empire.”

“Did he?” Mr Van Der Linde’s eyes sparkled with a kind of devious curiosity, the kind most often found in children. “Convince her to invest that is.”

“I’m afraid not. Mrs Zamolodchikova found him rather...disagreeable.” A part of you still cringed on the inside just thinking about that meeting. It had started off well, and Mr Cornwall had certainly been polite enough, but once his true character came out, it all started to go downhill rather rapidly.

“In what way?”

You hesitated slightly. “Well, I mean, one doesn’t wish to disparage others when they don’t have the opportunity to defend themselves.”

A chuckle came from Mr Van Der Linde, and you even saw a corner of Mr Morgan’s mouth twitch.

“We just want your honest opinion, that’s all.” Mr Matthews assured you. “No need to be disparaging.”

You paused, trying to think of the right way to phrase it. “Mr Cornwall...well, Mrs Zamolodchikova and I found him to be rather...brusque and arrogant. When Mrs Zamolodchikova turned down his request, he got rather upset and he seemed to take it as a personal affront.”

“She must’ve grown to regret that.” Mr Van Der Linde mused.

“Not at all. Mrs Zamolodchikova was happy for him of course, but she was also happy she rejected him. She said she couldn’t imagine being in business with someone so...tasteless.”

“Tasteless in what way?” Mr Matthews asked.

“Well he was...very new money.” When you saw the looks of confusion on the mens’ faces, you tried to think of a better way to phrase it. “He was something of a show off, and a little gaudy. He wore a lot of gold, I imagine to try and impress, but it came off as vain and rather insecure. Mrs Zamolodchikova was very critical of that kind of thing, and when she saw how self aggrandizing he became after his success, she grew to dislike him even more.”

Mr Van Der Linde nodded slowly, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “It sounds like you’ve lead a rather interesting life.”

“I suppose you could say that.” Your eyes roamed over the two older men again. “I imagine that wasn’t the kind of information you wanted, my apologies Mr Van Der Linde.”

Despite your fears, the black haired man smiled and waved a hand. “It’s fine Miss [Last name]. I was just curious, that’s all. Javier, why don’t you walk her back to where she’s staying?”

“Sure thing boss.”

You turned to leave with Mr Escuella, but you hesitated just as he put a hand on the door knob. “Wait.” All eyes were back on you, and you felt yourself flush, but you felt that you needed to get this out. “I just-I just wanted to add that Mr Cornwall is a very powerful man, and in my opinion, and in the opinion of mutual acquaintances that he and I share, he is lead more by pride and ego than wisdom. He doesn’t take insults lightly and can be rather harsh.” You were very careful and deliberate with your words, not wanting to seem like you knew better, but still wanting to convey your feelings of apprehension.

Mr Van Der Linde raised an eyebrow, and you got the feeling that he understood what you were trying to say. “Duly noted Miss.”

You nodded, and turned back to Mr Escuella, this time actually following him outside.

“You must’ve lived a pretty good life for a while.”

You shrugged and felt yourself blush heavily. “I suppose.” It always somewhat embarrassed you, knowing how different your life had been from other people, especially those who were born into the same class as yourself. “I honestly just think I got lucky.” You looked down at your feet. “Don’t feel so lucky now though.”

A heavy silence hung between you two, and you had to bite the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from crying.

“Sorry.” You said softly. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my woes.”

“It’s ok.” Mr Escuella assured you, his voice kind again. “Considering everything you’ve been through, I’d say you have a right to let your feelings out.”

You looked at Mr Escuella in surprise. You hadn’t really thought about it like that. “You’re very kind.” You said sincerely. “Sadie might not think so but I certainly do.”

That brought a bright smile to Mr Escuella’s face, which made you smile in turn. You always enjoyed making people smile, it made you feel good, and you felt that it proved that you were useful and worth something for once.

“You’re a sweet kid.” Mr Escuella’s eyes were shining, although you couldn’t hazard a guess as to why. “Don’t let anyone beat that out of you, ok?”

“I-Ok.” You weren’t sure how else you should respond, being so unused to compliments from strangers. You watched as he held the door to the house with the other women open. “Are you not coming in?”

“Nah.” He smiled. “You stay warm ok?”

“Of course, and you as well Mr Escuella.” You went inside, and no sooner was the door closed that you were practically swarmed by Miss Jones, Miss Gaskill, and Miss Jackson.

“What did they want?”

“You weren’t gone for very long, did everything go alright?”

“Are you allowed to say?”

You felt yourself flush as you tried to keep track of who was asking which question. “It was nothing special.” You said. “They just wanted to know how I knew Mr Cornwall.”

Of course they all also wanted to know, and so you told them what you had told Mr Van Der Linde, Mr Matthews, Mr Morgan, and Mr Escuella-omitting your warning at the end.

Much like the men, they were stunned to hear your story.

“So you grew up pretty well to do.” Miss Jones said, in a tone that sounded impressed and envious.

“I-Well, yes, I suppose.” The embarrassment from earlier had returned. “I was extremely privileged.”

“What was it like?” Miss Gaskill asked, sounding wistful. “Being in that world?”

You paused, trying to think of a good way to describe it.

“When I was a little girl, it was dazzling.” You confessed. “All those men and women in their finery...it looked like an entirely different world. Like a fairy tale.”

“Oh yeah?” Miss Jackson raised a brow. “Meet any prince charmings?”

You laughed. “I met some well to do gentlemen if that’s what you mean.”

“I think she means suitors.” Miss Gaskill said with a giggle, and an eager look on her face. “Well, did you?”

“Oh!” A scorching heat unlike any of the others from before overcame you, and you felt your throat dry up. “I-Well-no.” You stammered, looking askance out of embarrassment.

“Really?”

You looked up and saw Miss Roberts looking at you with surprise. “You mean none of them tried to…” She trailed off, leaving you to fill in the blank.

“Not at all.” You said, your flush worsening. “After all, I was just a maid’s daughter.”

And therein lies the rub.

No matter how much you learned or how you dressed or how you behaved, everyone knew that you were just the daughter of a maid who Mrs Zamolodchikova had taken pity on. Most of them had been polite enough, but that boundary had always been there, and always would be. You had grown accustomed to it, the way one would grow accustomed to a permanent limp. And it left you with what you imagined would be the same level of alienation. It was one of the many unfortunate side effects of being born as yourself, and one you had learned how to deal and navigate the world with.

But it would always be a fairy tale to you. Beautiful, grand, never within your reach no matter how well you knew it. And you would always be that little girl that chased after it with every breath in her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos are always appreciated and comments keep me going!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year everyone!…and a little over a month since the last update LMAO this chapter is a long one so hopefully that makes up for it! just wanted to say thank you again for all the kind words and support y’all have shown! it really is so heartwarming and encouraging and is just genuinely lovely to see! anyways hope you all enjoy this one!

In the week that followed your meeting with Mr Van Der Linde and Mr Matthews, you remained inside with the other women, doing a bit of talking, but mostly listening, and learning what they were willing to share about themselves. When you were a child you learned that most people enjoyed talking about themselves in one way or another. Just make sure to listen and at least seem interested, and you could learn all sorts of things that you could later use to create a deeper relationship, and that was what you were doing with the women.

Despite your earlier shyness and anxieties, you found yourself enjoying their company, and while you couldn’t confidently say that you were all friends, you hoped that they would grow to see you as one.

In particular, you had grown rather fond of Miss Roberts. She reminded you of Sadie in a way; both were strong and resilient women, bold and brave. Every quality you ever felt like you lacked, you saw them wield with expertise, and it awed you just as much as it made you envious.

You also saw some glimpses of your mother in Miss Roberts, as both had been young mothers in undesirable circumstances. Admittedly Miss Roberts had a wider circle of support than what your mother had, even with your aunt and uncle, and Jack’s father was still in the picture, but the similarities were very much there. You found yourself wanting to befriend Miss Roberts, and lift some of her burdens, in a way that you couldn’t have done for your mother when you were a child.

“I’ll tend to Mr Marston today.” You said to her. “You should rest and try to take your mind off things.” You knew that that was of course far easier said than done, but you hoped that not having to see Mr Marston’s injuries would do her some good. In truth, you didn’t really know what Miss Roberts and Mr Marston got up to when she went to see him, but it didn’t always seem to be pleasant, as Miss Roberts would sometimes return looking upset.

Yesterday had been one of those days, so you imagined that Miss Roberts wouldn’t exactly be eager to be by Mr Marston’s side, and you had turned out to be right.

As you made your way to the mens’ house, you found the snow to be easier to navigate through, softer somehow, although you couldn’t pinpoint why, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

When you entered, you smiled at them all. You hadn’t spoken to all of them yet, Herr Strauss had remained the friendliest out of them all, although Mr Escuella wasn’t trailing too far behind. It was nice knowing that you had established something of a rapport with the two men, it made you feel more comfortable among everyone.

You gently approached Mr Marston, sitting in the chair by his bed. Someone, you guessed either Miss Roberts or Miss Grimshaw, had set up a small medical station with extra bandages, disinfectant, and a face cloth. It was by no means sophisticated, but you didn’t expect nor needed it to be. You looked over at Mr Marston and smiled at him.

“Did you sleep well Mr Marston?”

He didn’t immediately answer, and for a moment you were afraid that he was in a bad mood. “Fine.”

You let out a small sigh of relief, smiling. “I’m happy to hear it.” You inspected his face for anything of concern, as you have before. Just as your fingertips went over his scar, you felt Mr Marston shiver and you immediately stopped. “Is everything alright Mr Marston?” You asked. “Are my hands cold?” You brought your hands to your face and winced when you found that they were a little chilly. “Sorry.” You said sheepishly. “I should’ve thought about that.”

“It...it’s fine.” Mr Marston looked away. “It was colder out there.”

Of that you had no doubt. You got to work redressing his wound, taking care not to cause him any more discomfort. “Jack is doing well.” You said, in an attempt to make conversation. “He’s a very good boy, you must be very proud.”   
  
Mr Marston grunted. “I would be if he were mine.”

You stopped completely, looking up at Mr Marston in surprise. “Oh! I-My apologies, it’s just-well, Miss Roberts-”

Marston snorted. “She wants him to be mine, but I’m sure he ain’t.”

You weren’t entirely sure what to say. You assumed that Mr Marston would know whether or not a child was his, but why Miss Roberts would specifically name him as Jack’s father was beyond you. Well, no matter. That wasn’t your business, so you weren’t going to worry about it.

“You’re uh...you’re good at this.”

You smiled, blushing at the sudden compliment. “Thank you, I’ve had practice.” You gently re-applied the bandage on his face. “Although, I must say, your wounds are worse than others I’ve seen.”

Mr Marston snorted. “Don’t imagine you see a lot of this with rich folks.”

You pause, and glance over your shoulder at Mr Escuella. You had suspected that he would tell the rest of the men what you had shared with Mr Van Der Linde, Mr Matthews, and Mr Morgan, but you hadn’t expected to be questioned about it so bluntly.

“Well, you’re not wrong about that.” You admitted. “I doubt any of them would be brave enough to venture out into the mountains in these conditions.”

A look of surprise comes over Mr Marston, although you couldn’t say what he was surprised about. His mouth twitched into something resembling a smile. “You know, you’re alright for a girl raised by rich folks.”

You blinked. “I...Thank you Mr Marston.” It certainly sounded like a compliment, although a rather confusing one. But then, you imagined that he didn’t have a high opinion of ‘rich folks’. You gently discarded the soiled bandages before looking over Mr Marston one last time. “We should really get you to a proper doctor.” You muttered with a sigh. You knew a number of fine doctors, all of whom would be able to give Mr Marston the treatment he needed, but you had no way of contacting them. And even if you did, you doubted any of them would come out all this way for an outlaw, no matter their condition.

“I’ll be fine.” Mr Marston said dismissively. “I’ve faced worse without one.”

You furrowed your brow, wondering what on Earth could be worse than this, but you knew better than to pry. You stood up, giving Mr Marston one last smile. “I’ll check on you again in a few days.”

Mr Marston nodded, looking down. “Th….thanks.”

You looked at Mr Marston in surprise, but smiled all the same. “You’re welcome Mr Marston.” You gave each of the men a smile as you left, feeling a new lightness in your step.

When you stepped outside, you almost slipped, before righting yourself at just the last second. You stood up properly and looked down at patch of snow that had given way beneath your foot, and saw that it had turned into sludge, almost like dirt after a heavy rain. Your heart began to race and noticed that the usually biting winds that had been keeping you all company had finally decided to leave. You walked as carefully as you could back to the house with the other women, watching as the snow offered much less resistance than usual.

“How is he?” Miss Roberts asked after you had shut the door behind yourself.

“Fine.” You replied, turning to all the women. “And I think we will be too.” You smiled widely.

“What makes you say that?” Miss Jackson asked.

“Everything’s starting to thaw.”

You could almost see and feel a weight being lifted off everyone, as excited looks were passed around and you sat beside Sadie. “Looks like we’ll be off this mountain soon.” You said eagerly.

Sadie nodded. “Regardless of where we end up, I want you to stay close to me.” She said in a low voice. “I don’t want you out of my sight for a second.”

You could only nod, you were too excited at the prospect of going back to civilization to argue.

* * *

Funnily and luckily enough, the thaw had come in just days before Mr Cornwall’s train was set to pass through the mountains, allowing Mr Van Der Linde to go through his plan. And while he and the men he would take with him were doing that, the rest of you would pack everything up, ready to leave as soon as the men got back.

Of course, Mr Morgan was chosen to go along with the job, which meant once again riding Gladys, an idea she clearly still didn’t like.

“She’s probably still trying to adjust to all of the changes.” You said as you firmly held her reins, trying to calm her. “It isn’t like her to have this much of an attitude.”

Mr Morgan grunted. “Well, if I were her, I wouldn’t want to have me in the saddle either.”

You frowned, unsure as to what he was getting at.

“Why are we doing this?”

You turned around and saw Mr Matthews approaching Mr Van Der Linde, who was also saddling up.

“Weather’s breaking, we could leave.” You could hear the worry in his voice, and it was painfully obvious that he was skeptical of Mr Van Der Linde’s plan. “I-I thought we was lying low.”

“What do you want from me Hosea?” Mr Van Der Linde asked back, sounding equally exasperated.

“I just don’t want any more folks to die, Dutch.”

You frowned and looked away. You could definitely empathize with that.

“We’re living, Hosea, we’re living…” Mr Van Der Linde turned to the older man, “look at me, we’re living...even you.”

You frowned. What was that supposed to mean?

“But we need money, everything we have’s in Blackwater. You fancy heading back there?”

“No.” Mr Matthews still didn’t sound convinced, and you pitied him. “Listen, Dutch, I ain’t trying to undermine you, I just…” He sighed heavily. “I just want to stick to the plan...which was to lie low, then head back out west. Now suddenly, we’re about to rob a train.”

You exchanged a glance with Gladys, who also seemed to be interested in what Mr Matthews had to say. It wasn’t a bad idea, and from what you had heard, the western territories hadn’t seen as much development, it would be easy for someone to disappear out there. Possibly even a whole gang.

“What choice have we got?”

Mr Matthews sighed again. “Leviticus Cornwall’s no joke, Dutch…” He looked up, and saw you. “You heard what [Name] said.” He gestured to you. “He’s powerful, rich, and has a fragile ego. He isn’t the sort of mark you want to go after lightly.”

Immediately you felt your face flush, and you tried to hide behind Gladys, who seemed to have sensed your discomfort and took a few steps forward, shielding you from the mens’ gazes.

“It also sounds like he has more than enough to share.” Mr Van Der Linde said, in a tone that left no room for argument.

“Dutch-”

“Gentlemen, it is time to make something of ourselves.” Mr Van Der Linde called out, prompting some of the other men to run out to their horses. “Get your horses ready, we have a train to rob.”

Still holding onto Gladys’s reins, you kept her steady as Mr Morgan mounted her. “Behave yourself.” You muttered to Gladys. “I don’t want to hear any complaints from Mr Morgan.”

She huffed, as if offended by the idea of accommodating Mr Morgan in any way.

You stepped back, giving Mr Morgan room to turn Gladys around. “Good luck.” You said anxiously. “Be careful.”

Mr Morgan nodded. “‘Preciate it.” He said, turning away to ride off behind Mr Van Der Linde with the other men.

You watched them all go, hoping that Mr Matthews’ concerns would come to fruition. You turned to face the older man, who still looked troubled. “Are you alright Mr Matthews?” You asked gently.

“As alright as I can be.” He said with a sigh.

You gently placed a hand on his arm. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.” You said with a smile. “And as long as no one is able to recognize them, then there won’t be any trouble, right?”

Mr Matthews still appears unsure. “I suppose.” He sighed again. “I’m just getting too old for this kind of life I think, but it’s good of you to care.”

“Of course, it’s the least I can do, considering everything you all have done for Sadie and I.”

Mr Matthews smiled a little. “That’s very sweet of you.” He patted your arm and gave you a kind look. “Would you mind checking up on John? Just to make sure he’s ok and ready to go when we need to.”

You nodded. “Of course Mr Matthews.” You made your way to the house, a little more confident walking in the partially thawed snow. 

When you opened the door, you were surprised to see Mr Marston on his feet, putting on a jacket. “Mr Marston!” You squeaked, rushing to him. “What are you doing? You need to rest!”

“I’ve rested enough.” He grunted. “I should be out there too, robbing that train.”

“Mr Marston please sit down you’re not in any state to do anything like that.” You gently held his arm. “Mr Van Der Linde has more than enough men to help him.”

“I should still be out there.” Mr Marston gently took his arm out of your grasp and took a step forward, wincing as he did so.

“Mr Marston please.” You quickly stood in front of him, stopping him from moving. “You’re clearly still in pain. I implore you, go back to bed. The more you rest, the faster you getter better, and the sooner you can help Mr Van Der Linde.” You kept your tone as gentle and kind as possible, not wanting to further wound Mr Marston’s clearly aching pride. “Please. For your own sake.”

Mr Marston stared down at you, dumb founded. He seemed to be genuinely surprised that you were this concerned. He looked like he was about to argue, but his bad leg began to wobble and he winced, falling back to sit on the cot. He sighed irritably. “Looks like you’re right. I’m no use to anyone right now.” He took off the jacket, angrily throwing it to the ground.

You frowned, feeling bad for him. You couldn’t imagine how upset he must be, seeing all the other able bodied men go off on such a daring job. You carefully picked the jacket up, folding it up gently and placing it on the seat beside his cot.”You just need to get your strength back.” You said kindly. “You’ll see, you’ll be fighting fit in no time!” You smiled encouragingly, hoping that some of this was working, even if only a little bit.

After a brief pause, Mr Marston chuckled. “Javier was right.” He looked up at you, with a small smile. “You really are too nice for us.”

You blushed a little, not entirely sure what to make of that. “I don’t know about that.” You said, embarrassed. “You’ve all been kind to Sadie and I, it’s only fair I return the favour.” You cleared your throat. “Now, please Mr Marston, get back into bed, and I won’t tell Mr Matthews about this.”

Mr Marston chuckled again. “Alright alright, ya twisted my arm.” He lay back down on the cot, using both hands to lift his bad leg up and onto it.

You heaved a sigh of relief and smiled. “How’s that wound of yours?” You moved closer to this side to properly inspect it.

Mr Marston waved a hand dismissively. “I’m fine, I just need to…” He sighed heavily. “Wallow in self pity for a little longer.”

You hummed. “I’m familiar with that feeling.” You said softly with a small smile. “And if anyone here is entitled to feeling like that then it’s definitely you. You went through a lot out there.”

Mr Marston snorted. “I wouldn’t say that. I just…” He trailed off, and you waited for him to finish. But instead he sighed and turned away. “You go on and help everyone else. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

You bit your bottom lip, reluctant to leave. But it was what he wanted, and you had to respect that. “Just think, before long, we’ll be warm again.” You said brightly as you left. “At least then it’ll be far more pleasant for you in bed.”

You thought you heard a soft chuckle as you closed the door, but you couldn’t be sure.

* * *

That night, most of the men returned from the train-most, because Mr Morgan had been notably absent, on account of him being left to deal with the remaining train guards and send the train back on it’s way.

The robbery had been very successful, producing a number of expensive items, stacks of money, and best of all, bearer bonds. You had no doubt that Mr Van Der Linde and Mr Matthews would be able to find a buyer for them.

It wasn’t until the next day, when Mr Morgan finally returned with Gladys, that you were all able to finally leave Colter.

You heaved a sigh of relief when you saw Mr Morgan return and allowed herself to smile. Your smile grew when Gladys trotted over to you the second Mr Morgan was off her, clearly not wanting to spend any more time with him.

“You’re going to have to learn how to deal with him.” You reminded her when she nudged your shoulder. You gave her a face a quick stroke before going back to loading up one of the wagons. Or, at least, trying to. You were trying to stack a crate into the back of one of the covered wagons, but it was becoming very clear very quickly that you were sorely lacking when it came to upper body strength.

“Hey, lemme help with that.”

You jumped, surprised, and turned to see one of the men approach you. He was large, larger than Mr Morgan, with a thick dark brown beard and a heavy brown coat. You had seen him join Mr Van Der Linde on the train robbery, and while the two of you hadn’t been formally introduced yet, by going through the process of elimination, you guessed that it was Mr Williamson. “Thank you.” You said. “Mr Williamson right?”

He nodded, looking a little surprised. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Well it’s very kind of you to help me Mr Williamson.” You crouched, digging your hands under one end of the crate so that you had a good grip on it. “You can take the other side.”

“I don’t mind taking the whole thing.”

You shook your head. “I insist Mr Williamson. We’re all supposed to help, and I would feel bad if I left you to do this by yourself.”

Mr Williamson gave you a strange look, but he conceded and took hold of the other end of the crate, lifting it with extreme ease, and putting it into the wagon without you really having to do anything. “Thank you.” You said. “You’re very strong Mr Williamson.”

Mr Williamson’s face was red, most likely from the cold. “It-it’s nothin’.” He cleared his throat. “We should uh, get the rest of this done.”

You nodded. “Of course.”

The two of you were able to fill up the wagon quickly, although of course you would attribute that to Mr Williamson’s far superior strength. By the end of it you smiled gratefully at him. “Thank you so much Mr Williamson! I really do appreciate the help.”

Mr Williamson looked down and cleared his throat. “It uh...it ain’t nothin’.”

“[Name]!”

You and Mr Williamson both jumped, turning to see Sadie staring both of you down. “We need you for something [Name].”

“Coming Sadie!” You turned to Mr Williamson and smiled. “Thank you again Mr Williamson.” You took hold Gladys’s reins and lead her with you as you made your way to Sadie. “Yes? What do you need?”

“Hitch Gladys to this wagon.” She said. “Then you can help load it.”

You did as you were told, and you were relieved to see that Gladys needed little encouragement to behave and was actually doing what was asked of her for once. After that, you helped her and some of the other women load up the wagon, thankfully with things that were much easier to lift. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that Mr Smith and Miss Roberts were helping Mr Marston into another covered wagon. You winced a little at the way Mr Marston moved, he was clearly still in a lot of pain and you felt horrible for him.

‘ _ We’ll be off the mountain soon. _ ’ You kept telling yourself. ‘ _ And then he can get proper help. _ ’

Within the hour you were all on your way down from the mountain, away from Colter, back to civilization. You sat with the other ladies in the wagon that Gladys was helping to pull, with Miss Grimsahw at the reins.

“Can’t wait until we’re warm again.” Miss Jackson said with a shiver. “Won’t be keeping myself awake with my teeth chattering.”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.” Miss Jones said teasingly, causing the rest of you to laugh.

You sat across from Miss Roberts and Jack, both of whom looked equal parts excited and anxious, especially Jack. You smiled kindly at them and leaned forward to put a hand on Miss Roberts’s knee. “Once we’re down from the mountain we can take Mr Marston to a proper doctor.” You said softly. “And he can get the proper help he needs.”

Miss Roberts sighed. “I hope so.” She stroked her son’s hair tenderly, smiling down at him before looking up at you. “I wanted to thank you for helping to take care of him. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did.” You said kindly. “After everything you all have done for Sadie and I, it’s the absolute least I could’ve done.” You smiled widely at her. “And even if I didn’t know any of you, I still would’ve done it.”

The other women seemed surprised to hear that, and exchanged glances.

“You really are too kind.” Miss Roberts said, trying to smile back despite how tired and haggard she is.

In this lighting, she truly could’ve been your mother, and it made you squeeze her knee again. “We’ll be ok.” You said.

(A part of you pretended that you truly were saying that to your mother. You didn’t think she heard it enough when she was still around.)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone! long time no see huh? so, obviously, it's been a while since i updated, not since jan, and honestly i expected the next chapter to be out in feb, but i ended up picking up some extra shifts at work so then i was like "ok march it is!" and now it's april lmao. like many of u i've been stuck inside because of the backstreet boys reunion tour, my entire country is on lockdown because of it, so i've been able to use the time to write! and here we are! hopefully i'll be able to get the chapters out more regularly but who knows? anyway hope you all have been well! stay safe, and stay indoors if you can! love u all!

As you all slowly descended from the Grizzlies, you watched as the white snow slowly gave way to lush green, a sight that you hadn’t seen for months now, and you eagerly drank it up like someone being given fresh cold water after being in the desert for too long. You let out a sigh when you saw a patch of flowers, feeling like a weight has been lifted from you.

“Been a while since you’ve seen nature?” Miss Jones asked.

You nodded. “Yeah. It-it feels nice.” You smiled and watched a small bird flit from one tree to another, before flying into the horizon. “The warmth makes a nice change too.”

The other women all laughed, even Sadie cracked a smile. “Can’t argue with that one.” Miss Jackson agreed.

You looked forward, trying to see past Miss Grimshaw and the horses, but your view was greatly obstructed. You leaned over the wagon a little, keeping your hands on the sides to stay steady.

“Easy there chiquita.”

You jumped a little and looked behind you to see Mr Escuella riding leisurely beside the wagon, a smile on his lips. “Don’t want you falling overboard.”

A flush crept onto your cheeks and you timidly pulled away. “R-Right. Of course. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” Mr Escuella assured you, urging his horse forward so that he was beside you. “Must feel good, seeing all this after being stuck on that mountain.”

“I have missed seeing the colour green.” You admitted.

To your surprise, Mr Escuella laughed. “I can only imagine.”

Making Mr Escuella laugh made you smile, and you sat up a little straighter. “So, who’s your friend?” You reached out and gently patted the neck of Mr Escuella’s horse. The horse whinnied in an appreciative manner, encouraging you to stroke it.

“His name’s Boaz.” Mr Escuella said. “He’s a good boy.”

“A very handsome one too.” You cooed, hand going up to scratch behind one of Boaz’s ears. You furrowed your brow at the lack of reaction before you laughed lightly. “I’ve been around cats for too long.” You said softly.

“What makes you say that?” Mr Escuella sounded intrigued, and you blushed when you realized that he had heard you.

“Oh, n-nothing. It’s just...I’ve grown to expect animals to purr whenever I pet them.” You lowered your gaze, face heating up even more. “I-It’s stupid I know.”

Mr Escuella laughed again, but it didn’t sound malicious. It sounded friendly, almost fond, like he hadn’t found your admission stupid at all. “We all get used to things.” He said with a warm smile. “So, you grew up with cats?”

You nodded. “Mrs Zamolodchikova loved cats, including stray ones. There were always cats around the house so I got used to having some around. There was even a special nursery for expectant mothers and their litters.” You sighed wistfully, thinking back to the times when you would play with the cats or lounge around doing nothing at all with them in between complicated and arduous lessons. You wished you could go back to those times.

“So you’re a cat person?”

“I suppose.” You shrugged. “But only by default. I do like dogs, I just have more experience with cats. And horses of course.”

“Speaking of, your horse doesn’t seem to be too fond of Arthur.” Mr Escuella raised a brow. “I think this is the first time I’ve met a horse that Arthur couldn’t charm.”

“Oh God.” You said with a frown. “Has something happened? Did Mr Morgan say something?”

“No nothing like that.” Mr Esceulla assured you. “It’s just funny. She’s a feisty one.”

“She’s certainly spirited.” You agreed, relieved that nothing bad had happened. “It can take her a while to warm up to strangers, but once she gets used to you all I’m sure she’ll be better behaved.”

“You think you guys will be staying around that long?”

You paused, looking over at Sadie. As expected, she had been watching the interaction between you and Mr Escuella like a hawk, and she didn’t seem to be at all pleased. “We’ll see.” She said tersely.

“I’m sure Dutch won’t mind.” Mr Escuella said. “He isn’t the type to kick out two helpless women.”

“We ain’t helpless.” Sadie snarled, almost visibly bristling.

“That’s very kind of him.” You said quickly. You gently put a hand on Sadie’s knee and squeezed. “We’re immensely grateful.”

Sadie huffed.

Mr Escuella chuckled. “I’m sure.” He said teasingly, winking discreetly when Sadie looked away.

A giggle slipped past your lips and you smiled widely. “Have you been around here before Mr Escuella?”

“Can’t say I have, you?”

You shook your head. “No. It feels a little exciting, being so far east.”

Mr Escuella raised a brow. “ _ This _ is your idea of excitement?” He chuckled. “Can’t wait to see how you react to everything else.”

Almost immediately you felt yourself deflate, wanting to shrink inside yourself for saying something so stupid. ‘ _ Idiot. They all must already think you’re a child. Now look at what you’ve done. _ ’ You looked down, wanting to avoid Mr Escuella’s gaze as your face burned with embarrassment.

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by that chiquita.”

You looked back up shyly and saw Mr Escuella looking contrite, and you immediately felt bad. “No no, it’s alright.” You said gently. “I-I know you weren’t trying to be cruel Mr Escuella.” You could tell Sadie was bristling like mad now, but you hoped that this would be enough to placate her. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, what does chiquita mean?”

Surprisingly, Mr Escuella seemed to be relieved that you were no longer upset. “It’s Spanish, for little girl or little lady.” He looked you up and down. “In your case I would say little lady is more appropriate.”

That made your face flush even more. No one had ever called you a lady before. In fact, ‘little girl’ had often been the descriptor of choice for most.

“I’m surprised you can’t speak Spanish.” Mr Escuella said, apparently oblivious to your embarrassment.

“Y-Yes, well, I’m afraid that part of my education had been left the wayside.” You said sheepishly.

“So what languages can you speak?”

“Russian, German, French, and Italian.” You replied.

Mr Escuella let out a low whistle. “Impressive.” He said with a raised brow. “Why no Spanish?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but then suddenly realized that you didn’t really have an answer. “I...I really have no idea.” You admitted. “I never really gave it much thought, but thinking about it now, it certainly would be useful.”

“Well, you’re clearly good at picking languages up, so if you’re ever in the mood for learning Spanish, you can just ask me.” Mr Escuella smiled warmly.

It had taken you a moment to process what Mr Escuella had said, but once you did you couldn’t help but grin widely. “R-Really?” You sat up on your knees, one hand still on Boaz’s neck. The offer had taken you by surprise, but you still felt elated. “Y-You mean it?”

“Course I do.”

A rush of excitement ran through you, and you couldn’t hold back a grin. “I-Thank you Mr Escuella. You’ve been so kind, I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

“You ain’t gotta repay me chiquita.” He said fondly. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something else, but stopped, looking you over. “Actually, there is one thing.”

“What is it?” You asked, curious and eager.

Mr Escuella smiled wider and leaned down so that he was at perfect eye level with you. “Just keep smiling. Do you think you can do that for me chiquita?”

It was certainly an odd request, but more than manageable. You had learned long ago how to smile when it was the last thing in the world you wanted to do. “I believe I can Mr Escuella.”

He chuckled, and sat back up. “Good.”

“Looks like we’re almost at that spot Hosea was talking about.”

You looked up at the back of Miss Grimshaw, and saw that you were all coming up to what appeared to be a well-trodden path, leading into a small patch of trees. It felt strange to see so many different types in one place, but in a welcoming and uplifting way. You smiled and sat up straighter, hoping to see more. “Thank Goodness.” You said.

“Hmm, I can’t see Arthur, Hosea and Charles.” Mr Escuella noted, looking over his shoulder. “I’m gonna hang back and wait for them, make sure they get back OK.” He looked back down at you. “Don’t forget what I said chiquita.” He grinned, and clicked his tongue, urging Boaz to turn around and go back down the path.

You couldn’t help but smile. ‘ _ He’s so considerate and kind. _ ’

Some giggles broke out behind you, and you turned around curiously. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing.” Miss Jones said breezily, with a twinkle in her eye that indicated very much the opposite.

(You felt your stomach churn.) 

“There’s a town not too far away right?” Miss Jones asked no one in particular

“Valentine I think Hosea said it was called.” Miss Jackson answered. “Real small cattle town.”

“I’ll take a small cattle town over those mountains any day.” Miss Gaskill said, and you couldn’t agree more.

Further ahead was a clearing atop a cliff, and it appeared to be just big enough for all of you. Miss Grimshaw pulled up at a far end of the clearing, and you watched as Mr Williamson and Mr Van Der Linde, who had both been steering wagons of their own, parked in different spots.

“Alright girls, let’s get to work.”

You and the other women all piled out of the wagon, and you noted Miss Jones groaning and Miss Jackson rolling her eyes as you did so.

“We need to start pitching tents.” Miss Grimshaw looked over at you and Sadie. “Do you two know how to do that?”

Sadie nodded. “I do, my daddy taught me.”

That seemed to please the older woman. “What about you [Name]?”

You immediately felt your cheeks flush hot. “I..I never...learned how to do that…” You looked down, feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

“Then what can you do?”

“J-Just about anything else to help!” You said quickly, looking up again, desperate to appear helpful and eager and, above all, of use. “You know how I said my momma was a maid? I would help her sometimes. I-I got good at it.”

“She’s very good.” Sadie said, coming to your aid. “She has a steady hand when sewing, knows how to treat all sorts of stains, and she can cook very well.”

You smiled at Sadie, grateful for the help.

Miss Grimshaw looked you over with an uncomfortably enigmatic gaze. “Show her how to pitch a tent.” She said finally. “The sooner she learns that the better.”

“Yes Miss Grimshaw.”

You let out a deep breath. “Y-Yes Miss Grimshaw!” You quickly followed Sadie to the wagon where the other women had already gathered, getting out what you assumed to be materials to pitch up tents.

“Did that old Russian widow teach you magic or something?” Miss Jones asked with a twinkle in her eye, much like the one from earlier, and a smirk on her lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Javier warm up to someone that quick.”

The other women giggled, and you flushed. “N-Not at all.” You said. “I-I’m sure that he just wants me to feel welcome.”

“Oh I bet he does.” Miss Jackson waggled her brows. “Or at least, welcome around him.” She burst into giggles, along with Miss Jones and Miss Gaskill.

“Alright girls that’s enough.” Miss Roberts interjected. “Don’t want to give Grimshaw an excuse to yell at us already.” She looked over at you and smiled kindly. “Don’t listen to them, they get bored easy and just wanna have something to entertain themselves with.”

You failed to see what could be so entertaining about this, but you appreciated Miss Roberts’s words nonetheless. “It’s alright.” You saw Sadie grabbing a bundle of materials and immediately went to her side to help. “So, what do we do?”

“Gotta find some good flat ground first.” Sadie inspected the surrounding area, before finding a patch that satisfied her. “Now we gotta make sure the frame is steady.”

She walked you through the steps slowly, adding clarification when you needed it. Knowing each other as long as you both had, she knew how to explain and teach things to you in a way that would make sense to you, so you were able to follow along and got the hang of it rather quickly.

“I don’t want you talkin’ to Escuella.”

You paused, turning away from the canvas to look at Sadie in surprise. “Why not? He’s very nice.”

“He’s an outlaw.” Sadie’s words were dripping with disdain and venom. “A thief and a killer.”

“And he’s been nothing but nice.” You pointed out. “He offered to teach me Spanish, that could be an invaluable skill Sadie.”

“Don’t matter, I don’t want you talking to him and that’s final.” She knotted the rope in her hands around a stake, with a bit more force than necessary in your opinion.

You sighed, kneeling beside Sadie. “That isn’t realistic and you know it.” You said in a low voice. “Besides, we need to be pragmatic about this.” You glanced around. “We’re outsiders Sadie. Everyone else knows each other, and there are already dynamics and relationships in place, so we need to form our own. The sooner we can endear ourselves to everyone here, the better.”

Sadie gritted her teeth. “These people aren’t like the rich, upper class types you’re used to.” She said pointedly. “They don’t play the same games or go by the same set of rules.”

“But they are human, and humans are social creatures.” You gently put a hand on Sadie’s arm. “If we can befriend a few of them, it’ll make life easier for us. I know you’re an expert on nature survival Sadie, but this is about social survival, and that’s entirely different.”

A silence hung between the two of you, and you let it, allowing Sadie time to think about what you had said. “Why do you always gotta be right.” She sighed heavily. “Alright. Fine. Be friendly. But not too friendly with the men. I don’t want none of them getting too close to you or being alone with you.”

“Deal.” You smiled and hugged Sadie. Truthfully, you never understood why she was so hesitant to allow men near you. After all, no man had ever expressed interest in you before, and why should they? There were always far better, more appealing options available.

“Not bad.” Miss Grimshaw appeared to be pleased and even a little impressed, especially since this was the first time you had ever put up a tent. She looked up at Sadie. “You can help Mary Beth and Tilly with setting up Arthur’s tent.” She then turned her attention to you. “And you can help Herr Strauss with his wagon. He seems to have taken a liking to you, so I doubt he’ll mind.”

“Yes Miss Grimshaw.” Despite yourself, you could feel your cheeks going a little pink at the revelation that Herr Strauss liked you. You felt relieved and happy to know that you had already formed at least one bond, and hopefully alliance, within the gang.

You and Sadie exchanged glances before going to your seperate jobs. Herr Strauss had just finished setting up a table when you approached, and he seemed to be looking for something in his wagon.

“Herr Strauss?” You said gently, not wanting to startle him too much.

Despite your precautions, Herr Strauss jumped a little, staring at you in surprise. “Mein Gott.” He said, a hand over his heart. “You’re certainly quiet aren’t you fr ä ulein?”

You flushed a deep red. “S-Sorry.” You said bashfully.

“Oh it’s alright.” Herr Strauss smiled kindly at you, adjusting his glasses. “Did you need anything?”

“Actually, Miss Grimshaw told me that I should help you.” You looked at his wagon. “Is there anything you need me to do?”

This seemed to surprise him, but Herr Strauss smiled. “Yes actually. I need some help taking inventory of our medicines.” He carefully pushed aside some of the crates, revealing a slightly worn leather satchel, which he reached into and pulled what appeared to be a notebook out of it. “Just go through the crates one by one and tell me what you find and I’ll make a record.”

“Of course.”

You did as you were instructed, reading out each label clearly, and waiting for Herr Strauss to finish writing before moving on. You had also decided to group all of the tonics together in groups, one for the horses, and one for humans, before further dividing them by what it was they helped with-health, stamina, or concentration-and then their effectiveness; all of which you had gleaned from reading the labels, committing it all to memory.

“You’ve already started sorting them?”

“Oh, um, yes.” You looked down, fidgeting under Herr Strauss’s curious gaze. “I-I thought it would make things easier. I can rearrange them if there’s a particular way you want them sorted.”

“Oh no no! This is perfectly fine fr ä ulein.” Herr Strauss said approvingly, his smile and gaze warm. He went back over his notes as he inspected the bottles, double checking to make sure everything had been properly accounted for. “You’ve done a very good job, and there aren’t any discrepancies, so all in all-”

“No! Mister! Wait!”

The sudden shouts made you jump, and you looked up, heart pounding, to see Mr Duffy being dragged to a tree not too far from where you were by Mr Williamson. “Wh-what’s Mr Williamson doing?” You asked shakily.

“Looks like he’s going to tie him to that tree.” Herr Strauss replied, shaking his head. “Poor boy. Can’t imagine he’ll last long without food and drink.”

“W-Wait.” You looked back at the older Austrian, wide eyed. “You’re not-I mean, we’re not-Mr Van Der Linde wouldn’t-”

“He would, and it appears that he has.” He assured you. “I understand that this is rather shocking, but it’s how things are done here. If Dutch says he ain’t eating or drinking, then that’s that.”

“I...I see…” You looked over at Mr Duffy, feeling immense pity. “How...how long will he be...tied up?”

“For as long as Dutch says.” Herr Strauss replied. He seemed to have caught the horrified look on your face, making him sigh. He gently put a hand on your shoulder and turned you away from Mr Duffy. “Fr ä ulein, I know that this sort of thing is particularly...unpleasant for you, being as good and kind as you are. But I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to it. Hopefully the boy will tell Dutch what he wants to hear sooner rather than later. Until then, we must follow Dutch’s orders. No food or water for the O’Driscoll.”

“Yes Herr Strauss.” You said quietly, trying very hard not to look back at Mr Duffy.

* * *

You helped Herr Strauss set up his own tent space and to arrange his things, and by the time you were both finished, the rest of the camp had been set up, and Mr Morgan, Mr Smith, and Mr Matthews had joined you all, and Mr Escuella with them. You couldn’t help but watch Mr Morgan as Miss Grimshaw escorted him to his tent. He moved with such easy confidence and self assuredness, that you couldn’t help but feel envious.You had no idea what it was like to feel like that, to move through the world without a single worry or care. All you ever did was worry and care.

You were quickly pulled from your thoughts when you heard Mr Van Der Linde speak. Everyone stopped what they were doing and formed a small crowd around him, listening intently, and you joined them. He was trying to raise morale, praising everyone for sticking by him, before urging everyone to pull their weight and help out. 

(You fidgeted a little at that, worried if you would be able to do that.)

Mr Pearson, now wearing a top hat, emphasized the need for food, asking for everyone to contribute something. You looked over at Sadie, who was standing with Miss Gaskill and Miss Jackson, and wondered if she would be allowed to hunt. You couldn’t see why not.

“And don’t forget, whatever you get, the camp gets a slice.” My Van Der Linde pulled out a shiny red box and placed it on top of a barrel outside his large tent.

You furrowed your brow and looked over at Herr Strauss. “What did he mean by that?”

“If you make any money then you need to put some into that box there.” He explained. “To help the camp pay for supplies and the like.”

“Oh. Like taxes?”

Herr Strauss chuckled. “Yes, I suppose so.”

Once Mr Van Der Linde was done, everyone dispersed and you rejoined the other women. “So, how long do you all usually stay in one place?”

“Depends.” Miss Jackson said. “If it’s a good spot and we lay low, then usually a good few months.”

“Let’s hope that’s the case here.” Miss Gaskill sighed. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve had enough of moving around.”

You couldn’t agree more, and you were about to say as much when something blue appeared in the corner of your eye. You turned to look and saw Mr Morgan, still wearing his big heavy coat, talking with Mr Van Der Linde and Mr Matthews. For whatever reason, your full attention was on the three men, but Mr Morgan in particular. You took in his profile, his strong jaw, the broadness of his shoulders, the firm set of his mouth. Did he ever smile? You hoped you would be able to see it.

“Stay away from him.”

You jumped, turning to see Sadie suddenly at your side, glaring at something. “W-What?”

“I said stay away from him.” It came out as an angry hiss, and when you followed her gaze you saw that it was focussed on Mr Morgan.

“But Sadie, he helped us-”

“I talked with Tilly and Mary Beth.” Sadie gave no indication that she had heard you, although you were certain that she did. “And they told me what kind of person Morgan is.”

You didn’t like the sound of that. “What...what kind of person is he?”

“Exactly the kind I expected.” She finally tore her gaze away from Mr Morgan and onto you. “He uses force and kills even when not necessary. He’s a mean and sour bastard and I don’t want you around him. I know you feel like you owe him because of what he did, but you don’t. He didn’t do it out of the goodness of his own heart. If Dutch hadn’t been there he probably would’ve put a bullet in our heads.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t have Sadie.” But even as you protested, you felt a chill go down your spine. “What would he have gained from it?”

“Men like him don’t need a reason to kill.” Her tone left no room for argument, so you decided not to. Instead you let her put her arm around you and lead you away to the area where the two of you, along with Miss Jones, Miss Jackson, and Miss Gaskill would sleep.

But you were able to sneak one last look back at Mr Morgan, watching as he smoked his cigarette, haloed in the light of the setting sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mein Gott: My God, German

**Author's Note:**

> hope you all enjoyed! please leave a comment and kudos!


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